Finally, after what seemed like forever, he turned back to her. “No. I’m not.” He sounded as if he were not only trying to convince her, but himself as well.
“Are you sure? What have you done in those private rooms, Dorian?”
He sighed. “Ian told you the truth when he said I rarely attend those masked balls and I’ve not been in the dungeons in a very long time. I only came that night because I saw you. I wanted to get to know you, but not like that. If I was interested in having sex with you that night, I would’ve lured you to the rooms. I didn’t.” His eyes were hopeful. He wanted her to believe him, to trust him.
“What the fuck, Dorian? Did you just call them dungeons? Do you think I’m so naïve that I don’t know what that is? Those are where BDSM sessions are performed! And you expect me to believe you? Why would you condone such a thing if you weren’t a part of it?”
His answer was hard and cold and still she heard the hurt in his voice. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Jennifer. I didn’t say I condoned it. It’s a business. We provide a service and we charge a lot of money for it. You’d be amazed at how many members we have. They’re not all scum either. We have some very powerful clients who like to do certain things in private. We guarantee them confidentiality. We’re not the only place that offers such services either. This is Miami for Christ sake! Besides, e.Vampire.com is not where my real business interests lay, Taylor and Van Ness is. It’s an internationally known and well respected software company.”
She was stunned into silence. Ian had told her he never attended the balls. Even Enrique had said Dorian was a good man, still, something tormented him and she was going to find out what it was. Not because she wanted to emasculate or humiliate him, because she cared about him.
She’d seen Dorian the control freak, the incredible lover, the romantic, the playful guy and now he was trying to share his truths with her, no matter how unpleasant they were. She sensed that kind of deep sharing didn’t come easy to him.
“Just what brought all this on Jennifer? I thought you were beginning to trust me.” He leaned toward her, his voice soft again, his face inches from hers. He didn’t touch her.
“I had a dream. I saw someone being whipped and then I thought of the private rooms and . . . .” She felt foolish now.
And she’d hurt him. Sometimes a dream was just a dream.
Still, something was nagging her and she had to ask, had to know. Was the hand holding that whip his?
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and asked. “Have you ever whipped anyone?”
Dead silence.
When she dared open her eyes he was looking at her as if he was in physical pain.
“You did. Didn’t you?” she whispered, horrified.
“Jennifer, I’ve done dreadful things in my past. I told you I was a bad guy from the start, but you refused to believe me. Yes, I’ve hurt women, many of them. They wanted it and I thought I did too. But I don’t. I haven’t for a long time now, even before I met you. I want you and not like that. Never like that.”
She stared at him, her mouth agape. If she hadn’t had that nightmare, she might never have asked about any of this. Now she knew. There was no going back. Ignorance really was bliss.
“Would you have told me about any of this if I hadn’t asked?”
“I started to at the beach, then, well, I got distracted.”
She thought about that night. He had begun to tell her something and then she’d asked him to fuck her. She winced at the memory.
“You said you were sexually adventurous and we’d talk about that later. I want to talk about it now. If you’re not into that kind of lifestyle, then what does sexually adventurous mean?” She automatically pulled away from him and leaned up against the car door.
He started the Ferrari, shifted the gears into reverse and backed out without saying anything. He looked at nothing but the road in front of him. His mouth was set in a firm line. She could see the muscles in his jaw tense.
“Where are we going?”
“To e.Vampire. I’ll show you the rooms. All I ask is that you reserve judgment until you listen to what I have to say before, during and after you’ve seen them.”
“I’m not sure I trust you at all right now.”
“I’ll show you everything. I promise. Maybe then you’ll trust me,” he said softly.
She glanced over at him and knew he was telling the truth, he was obviously guilt-ridden over what he’d done. He could’ve easily lied and she probably would have believed him. He hadn’t.
Looking down at his hand, gripping the stick shift so tightly, his knuckles were white, she reassuringly laid her own hand on top of his.
He turned his head and she saw the remorse in his eyes. He looked down at her hand on his and one corner of his mouth lifted in a hint of a smile.
Neither of them spoke for the rest of the ride.
When the car pulled up in front of the tall, glass and steel building, the gold letters Taylor and Van Ness, Incorporated shone under muted white lights. All around the building pale green lights fell softly on the immense, tropical foliage. The inside of the building was warmly lit as well.
Jennifer found it a little disturbing that a place like e.Vampire.com was housed in such a beautiful, high end building and hidden behind a successful business.
Thank God my membership was rejected, she thought.
They walked through the tasteful front lobby. It boasted wealth and opulence. A large middle aged man, with salt and pepper hair and a matching mustache stood at the security desk. He was dressed in a security guard uniform and greeted Dorian immediately.
“Good evening, Mr. Taylor.” He looked at Jennifer with open curiosity.
“This is Ms. Jennifer Reese, Dominick. She’ll be assisting me this evening.”
Dominick gave her a warm, sincere smile and shook her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Reese.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too,” she said demurely, hoping like hell he thought she was a computer programmer and not some bimbo who was about to walk into a dungeon.
“He doesn’t know anything about the rooms at all. He works solely for Taylor and Van Ness,” Dorian whispered as they headed for the elevators.
“How did you . . . ?
“I know you better than you think I do Jennifer.” He exuded his usual confidence again, in total control of himself.
No surprise there. He was the master of this domain. She was in his world now. And for all the notes she’d read on what she might see and hear in one of those dungeons, she was scared. She knew damn well, reading about something and actually experiencing it were too very different things.
“I’d like you to see my office first, if you don’t mind. I think you’ll find the view quite nice.”
“Okay.”
He opened a large mahogany door with a highly polished gold name plate which read: Mr. Dorian Taylor CEO. Underneath that was the word Private. “After you,” he said.
She walked in. The office was nothing like she’d thought it would be. It was bright and airy, not at all stuffy.
His taste was impeccable. Most of the furniture was light and modern in color and texture, probably Scandinavian. One wall had built in bookcases which were crammed full. Long, elegant cream colored drapes were drawn shut on the back wall. The office was painted in a soothing, light beige color.
The contrast of vibrant works of art, strategically placed at a perfect distance from one another gave the room personality. Three computer monitors sat on his desk as well as a razor thin, mother of pearl colored lap-top. The desk was a cluttered mess of papers and open manuals. He was so fastidious about his personal hygiene, the way he dressed and his home it seemed out of character.
He must’ve noticed her reaction to it.
“Yes. I know it’s messy, but I know where everything is. Such is the life of a computer software designer. Not to mention, you’ve kept me quite busy as of late.” He smiled and casu
ally walked to a corner of the room. “Draw back the drapes.”
She pulled them open and felt her breath catch in her throat. “My God, Dorian. The view is amazing!” She could see what seemed like all of Miami, the lights from this height gave the city an almost magical ambiance. And there, in the night sky, intermittent flashes of bright blue lightening pierced the sky. “This is awesome.”
He never moved toward the windows to stand beside her. He asked politely if she’d like a drink.
“Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.” For a moment she’d forgotten why they were here.
“Close the drapes.” he ordered.
Oh, yeah. The tone in his voice reminded her.
Reluctantly, she pulled the tab and shut out the beautiful vista.
Why did he want them closed? Weird, she thought.
He handed her a glass of sparkling champagne.
“Hmm. Champagne. It’s the one drink that’s my Achilles heel. I’ll be drunk on one glass. Do I need to be drunk to enter the dungeon? Is it that bad?”
He looked at her hard before speaking, as if deciding just how much he wanted to reveal about this place. “Come, I want to show you something.”
They walked over to the wall with the enormous built in book cases. He pressed a button on a small remote control and the wall slid to the left, revealing a hidden room.
The chamber was made of solid concrete walls, on which 5 large television screens, all dark at the moment were attached. Beneath each screen was a room number from 1 to 5 and two small buttons, one red and one green. All five glowed red. A single Baroque style chair sat in front of a large computerized console, complete with a very large keyboard. Five blue tooth ear pieces sat neatly in a row.
Jesus Christ, she thought, I’m in a twisted, pseudo-sexual version of mission control. Houston, we have a problem!
“What the hell is this, Dorian? Do you spy on people in those rooms? Is that what you are, a voyeur? I don’t even know what to say.”
“I said I’d tell you everything about e.Vampire and I’m doing just that. This is the dungeon monitoring room, well one of them anyway. There are five in all. Malachi and three others have them.”
“So you sit here and watch people have sex.” She was appalled. “Why?”
“I assure you, I’m not a voyeur. It’s not my job to watch the rooms. We have dungeon monitors to do that. I don’t even watch the masked balls most of the time. It was only because I saw your profile and membership application that I bothered to watch that night.”
“What are . . . dungeon monitors?” She whispered, shocked.
“Dungeon monitors are individuals highly trained in BDSM safety. It’s their job to make sure things don’t get out of hand. They ensure safe play. If someone goes beyond the limits, where there’s a possibility of serious injury or death, they step in and put a stop to it.”
She took a sip of her champagne, thought better of it and downed the entire glass. She stared down at the empty glass, unmoving. Dorian took the glass from her hand.
“Would you like another drink?” He asked politely, as if they were in some fine restaurant instead of this sexual twilight zone.
“Um . . . yes, please.” She didn’t dare look at him, couldn’t look at him. And yet, she knew he was watching her like a hawk.
He brought her drink and handed it to her. “Are you ready?”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded, her head still down as she sipped on the drink. The first glass had already gone to her head and she felt pleasantly buzzed. You can do this, she thought. She had to know exactly what he really meant by “adventurous sex.”
They stood in front of the five doors. Dorian pointed down at a white marble rectangle about 6 inches in diameter. One of these was in front of each of the doors. “These light up when the room is occupied.”
“I didn’t see those when I was here.” She glancing around, looking at anything to avoid looking at him.
“You probably didn’t notice them. The light is very subtle, but those waiting for a room to open up watch them. They probably blocked your view.” He paused. “Look at me Jennifer,” he said quietly. “We don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to.”
She met his gaze head on. “Oh, I want to see it. I don’t care about what you’ve done with others in there. Well I do, but I don’t want to dwell on that. I need to know exactly what you’d with me in there. Is this what you meant by adventurous sex?”
“Adventurous isn’t mutually exclusive with pain. You think I’m going to hurt you, don’t you?” he asked solemnly.
“I don’t know what to think!”
“Do you want to know why I rejected your membership, Jennifer? I mean, besides the fact that I wanted you all to myself?”
“Oh, there’s another reason?” She asked sarcastically, taking another sip of champagne. The more she drank the snarkier her remarks were. “Do tell. I’m all ears.”
“Because I was certain you had no idea what you were signing up for and there was no way in hell I was going to let any of our members lay a hand on you.”
“Oh.” She put her head down. “Thank you. I guess.”
“These rooms are called public dungeons, which sounds as if anyone can use them. But that’s not the case. They’re open only to members. The reality is people become members for this. Not dating. The masked balls are a way to meet others, but this is what they really want.”
“But the website said . . .”
“Do you remember what the home page really said, Jennifer?”
Hot vampires who will satisfy your every fantasy! My God, my comments about this place being a sex club were accurate! She thought.
“I only went because of Julie. She knows I’ve dated from online sites and met some horrible men. I didn’t even want to come, but then I saw your picture and I wanted to meet you. I had no idea about all this.” She waved her hand in a sweeping motion. She felt her face burning as if it was on fire. Something dawned on her then. Her stomach lurched. Did Julie know what this place really was?
“Julie,” she whispered, stunned by the revelation. Her shock quickly turned to anger.
“She brought me here knowing full well about it. So much for friendship. What a fucking bitch!”
“You’re wrong about Julie. I don’t think she knew what this place was either and she is your friend. What did she do, really? She brought you to the dance. And no-one approached you asking you to have sex with them, did they?”
“But she’s a member, which means she engages in this sort of thing.”
“No, she’s not a member. Her application was rejected as well, but not by me, by the judges. Every now and then people like you and her come to the masked balls totally unaware of what e.Vampire is. Those applications are automatically rejected. The judges can tell by the comments on your profile if you’re into this sort of thing or not.”
“She never said anything about being rejected to me. I wonder why.”
“Maybe she didn’t care. She seems quite taken with Ian.”
That was probably true. I was upset about the rejection because I felt rejected by Dorian, not e.Vampire.com, she thought.
“I know you’re having a hard time with all this, but I really want to be honest with you. The members here do not do anything as awful as you’re probably imagining right now. That’s why we have the dungeon monitors.
Every now and again, we get those who practice hard core BDSM, people who like to inflict serious injury and humiliation on others and those who like submit to it. We don’t allow it. We have rules. They’re stopped and thrown out of the club. As for adventurous sex, you and I have already had some sexual adventures, wouldn’t you say?” His voice was hopeful.
“Yes. I like what we’ve done, but this . . . .” She took another gulp of champagne. It was almost gone. She felt her head spin and her body relax involuntarily.
A scene flashed in her mind of Jack, the last guy she’d dated and his fun factory. I wouldn’t hurt you un
less you want me to, he’d said. The expression on his face told her that he wanted her to say yes, I want you to hurt me.
She posed the question to Dorian. “What if I wanted you to hurt me? Would you?” She was beginning to slur her words ever so slightly.
He took the glass away. “I think you’ve had enough.” He walked to the marble and mahogany credenza she’d admired the night of the dance and set down the half-empty glass.
Watching him walk back toward her, he looked so handsome he took her breath away.
He took her face in his hands, lifted it and captured her eyes with his.
“No, I wouldn’t,” he said gently.
“Why not?”
“The only reason you’d ask me to hurt you is because you think it’s what I want and need. Neither is true.”
Chapter 18
Dorian opened the door to room number 1 and led her in. She was totally surprised. The room was windowless with pale gold colored walls. Elaborately carved dark bronze candle sconces wrapped around electric candles washed the room in a soft and sensuous hue.
The furniture was all Baroque, a style which used many details to provide drama, tension, grandeur and even power. Some considered the style overly busy and byzantine. In this room, it was perfect. The carpet was a very plush chocolate brown and the whole room was immaculate.
In the center was a king sized bed. She stared at it in wonder. The head and footboards were black and laced with gothic type carvings. A deep purple velvet coverlet, with light purple edging graced the top. Deep brown pillows completed the ensemble. On all four posts were wrist and ankle cuffs in the same deep purple.
It was actually quite beautiful in a disturbing sort of way. It reminded her of a royal bedroom, albeit, a kinky one.
There were pictures on the walls, also Baroque in style. The subjects were shocking to Jen.
A large picture framed in brilliant gold was none other than that of The Adoration, a religious portrait done by Peter Paul Rubens. She knew it well. It was one of her favorites. Another painting displayed the Saint Andrea Church, a structure created by Bernini, one of the most famous architects of his time. The Catholic Church used him to design many of the buildings in Italy.
e.Vampire.com Page 14
