by Kira Barker
“Thursday then,” I confirmed, not quite capable of keeping a hint of disappointment out of my voice. Sure, it had been unreasonable to expect him to drop everything on the spot to make time for me, but going another one and a half days with pent-up tension driving me insane was not my definition of a good time.
“I have some homework for you in the meantime, if that helps tidy you over your burning desire.”
That made me snort with laughter.
“Seriously?”
“On the homework or the burning desire?”
“Both, but the figure of speech is worse.”
“Sorry, couldn’t resist. My publicist is trying to foist a new project on me, and I’ve done my best to discourage him.”
“And for that you need phrases like ‘burning desire’?”
“Much worse. I guarantee you that you don’t want to know.”
“I’ll take that at face value. Or whatever the verbal equivalent of that may be.” I paused, then tried to get back on track. “So, homework?”
“Nothing too strenuous, don’t worry. Just your standard lists of preferences and limits.”
“You know that I don’t really have much to fill out? We covered almost the entire range of my sexual experience on Saturday.”
He made a sound that I thought was a grunt.
“I have to start somewhere, and I might as well begin with the things you feel familiar with or are mostly interested in. You got away last time without us having that conversation because I didn’t plan on doing anything more elaborate than what most people do without considering it terribly kinky, but if we want to wade into deeper waters, I need to know what might get you going, and what sends up red flags when there’s even a hint of it involved. Not that I expect that too many things really freak you out. This is your what, third rotation in the ER? I’m sure you’ve seen stranger things stuck in people’s orifices than I can even think of.”
As he’d likely expected, that made me laugh.
“Oh, I could tell you stories…”
“I’ll email you the list, and we can talk about it over coffee. How does that sound?”
“Like you’re trying to get rid of me right now.”
His laugh sounded a little strained, and it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t asked if he’d ever stopped jerking off. Just then my beeper went off, reminding me that I had another seven hours of shift ahead of me.
“Sorry, gotta run. See you on Thursday?”
I couldn’t help but grin stupidly at that, because even if we were talking about sex and I was about to run off to save lives, I still had the humor of an immature ten-year-old.
“As bright and early as you make it over here.”
“Well, good wank then.”
“Thanks, you too.”
Clearing my throat, I hung up. Really, did he always have to have the last word? Apparently, the smug bastard did.
It was 2:00 a.m. by the time things quieted down enough for me to sidle into the doctor’s lounge and print out the list Simon had sent me. Medical knowledge, and, I could admit that at least to myself, years watching porn and lurking around online forums had given me a moderately good idea of what most of the terms meant that were mentioned, and the three that I had to look up were things I hadn’t realized people could even fetishize.
Just to be sure, I also printed out an article from the Journal of Advances in Neuroscience just to make sure that the printer cache held something less incriminating should anyone check. I definitely felt stupid rather than sneaky, but Jack had told me too many hilarious stories from work for my paranoia not to run rampant.
I spent another thirty minutes I should have caught some sleep in poring over the list. I still didn’t really know what to do with it, but if Simon insisted on this, I was game. I was also rather worked up once I was done but forced myself to keep away from the bathroom except for what it was strictly intended for. When that had become a Herculean effort, I couldn’t say, but it was bothersome as hell.
The people of the day shift started trundling in just around six, but I still had some patient files to wrap up, so it was closer to eight in the morning when I finally hightailed it out of the hospital. At the small bakery right next to the train station, I hesitated, then went in, deciding on a whim that I really didn’t want to have breakfast all by myself today. That had nothing whatsoever to do with my perpetual horniness.
Jack looked something between astonished and suspicious when he let me in, but welcomed the fresh croissants I foisted at him. He was ready for work, wearing the familiar T-shirt and jeans uniform of IT people everywhere, his bag ready by the door.
“Not that I’d look a gift horse bearing edible food in the mouth, but shouldn’t you be comatose somewhere? Or saving the world one spurting artery at a time?”
“My body still hasn’t adjusted to my recent switch to night shift, and I figured I’d rather hang out with you guys for a couple of minutes than spend my time tossing and turning in bed.”
“Okay,” he offered, still cautious, then preceded me into the kitchen, making for the coffee machine. “Coffee? Or not if you do plan on sleeping later, I guess.”
“I’ll take a cup. My body must have become resistant somewhere between undergrad and med school.”
Simon looked up at the sound of my voice from where he sat hunched over the morning paper at the breakfast bar. Unlike Jack, it only took him a moment to assess the situation, and his wry grin made me kind of self-conscious about my decision to come over.
“You do know that it’s Wednesday, right?”
“The morning after my Tuesday night shift is usually Wednesday, yeah,” I agreed, maybe a little sharper than I had intended.
Jack looked from me to Simon, then handed me my coffee.
“I feel like I’m missing something here, and not just my train.”
“Sorry, really didn’t want to keep you,” I offered, very unconvincingly.
“Don’t worry, fresh food makes up for being a little late,” he assured me, stuffing half a croissant into his mouth without bothering with a plate. Simon meanwhile started shredding his into a million pieces, his eyes never leaving my face. It shouldn’t have been possible that anyone could unnerve me so much wearing a baggy tee, jogging shorts and white socks.
“So why exactly are you here?” Jack asked when I didn’t volunteer the information. “My coffee is great, I know, but it has never lured you into making a detour in the morning.”
I opened my mouth, ready to spout the next bullshit that came to my mind, but Simon cut me off before I could get there.
“Because she’s horny as fuck and can’t wait for you to beat it.”
My mouth snapped shut, all my excuses gone.
Jack’s snort was exactly that kind of amused that usually made me want to slap him, while his smile was almost sweet. Almost.
“Ah, I see. Well, bring bagels with your next bootie call. I love the croissants, but the bagels are so much better.”
Before I could protest, Jack swept by me, picked up his bag, and was out of the door in record time. That left me with Simon, his smirk and his croissant genocide.
“I just dropped by to give you this.”
Digging into my bag, I got out the list and handed it to him. If I ran now, I could likely catch up with Jack and ride the few stops back into the city. I hated leaving the coffee mostly untouched, but this had been a bad idea from the start and—
“Erin, sit your ass down right fucking now.”
My ass hit the chair next to Simon’s before my brain had even caught up with his command. My eyes narrowed at him, but the irritation coming up inside of me was more for myself than him. I really wasn’t used to anyone ordering me around who wasn’t wearing scrubs, and even then I usually took a moment to react.
He seemed to know what was going through my mind, forcing his smile to turn down a couple of notches until it was bordering on nice.
“Thank you for being so diligent
about this, but you can stop lying now. No one’s believing you, anyway.”
“I really—”
“Stop.”
Much to my surprise, my mouth shut, unbidden. Feeling stupid, I took a sip of coffee while I watched Simon pick up two more flakes of former croissant and nibble on them while his eyes scanned the print out. Twice I opened my mouth to just say something, but closed it again without a word coming over my lips. When he switched to the second page and hadn’t said a peep yet, I treated myself to my own breakfast right out of the brown paper bag.
When he was done perusing the list, Simon got up. I made as if to follow him, and he held me back with a gesture in my general direction.
“Stay.”
“If you say ‘roll over’ or ‘heel’ next, I’m going to bite you.”
That got me a grin before he ducked into the back hallway. About half a minute later he returned with a stack of papers.
“My list,” he needlessly explained as he handed it over and got himself another cup of coffee.
Interest flamed up inside of me, but I tried not to let my face betray any emotion. But, oh boy, he’d gotten around if the sheer amount of “done” checks was any indication. Some of it surprised me, a couple of the high “really dug that” marks kind of intimidated me, but it could have been worse. What the list underlined was just how inexperienced I was, and I couldn’t help but feel like I’d really missed out on a lot over the past couple of years.
“Exactly how long have you been into this?” I asked, waving the list around as if that question needed clarification.
“Since I turned twenty, third year of college.”
I tried to think back to that time, wondering if there’d been any change in his behavior or something—there should have been, right? But I honestly couldn’t remember. I’d been under a lot of pressure back then to get my GPA perfect enough to land a scholarship on top of getting accepted into the med school of my choice, and I’d never been that observant when it came to people. I thought I remembered him appearing a little less awkward and somewhat more confident, but that could easily have been my memory playing tricks on me now that I wanted to see change.
“Any questions?”
I shook my head. That list was pretty self-explanatory, and while it was interesting to get a glimpse into his past and what I perceived where his interests, it didn’t really pertain to me. I doubted that anything we’d do in the near future would range deeper into his comfort zone, let alone out of it.
“Not really.”
“Why are you here? I think I can guess accurately, but it would be nice of you to say it.”
Licking my lips, I hesitated, then put the list down and caught his gaze.
“I kind of hate to admit it, but I’m really fucking horny and excited about this, and waiting another day is the kind of torture I don’t think I’m into.”
He shared my grin and popped another piece of croissant into his mouth. That shouldn’t have looked so damn sexy, but I got the feeling that my mind would have found toilet paper commercials sexually stimulating right now. My eyes must have lingered on his lips a little too long because they quirked up into a lopsided grin once he’d finished chewing, but for once he didn’t use that against me.
“Trust me, I get it. I have a deadline at three today.”
And just like that, my libido got a probably much-needed cold douse.
“Oh. Well, no problem—” I said, already sliding off my stool, but Simon’s warm hand wrapping around my wrist stopped me.
“I’m done with writing and almost done editing, so I have some time. But for the future, I would welcome it if you called ahead without coming up with bullshit excuses instead.”
The pressure of his fingers increased just a little before he let go, and I felt a hint of guilt and unease grip me. I normally didn’t fib, but he’d never called me out on any of my white lies, even though I was sure that he’d seen through all of them.
“Okay. Sure.”
“Good, because we can’t do this without absolute disclosure and brutal honesty, like it or not. If that’s too much of a bother for you, you can leave right now, no hard feelings.”
His dismissive tone was like a hard slap in my face, but one I deserved.
“That’s not going to be a problem. Promise.”
His eyes remained on my face for a moment longer, then he nodded and gestured for me to follow him. I quickly finished my coffee, then skipped after him, a little surprised when he stopped in the middle of the back hallway and opened the door leading up to the attic. I couldn’t remember when I’d been up there the last time, likely just after they’d moved in and we’d stored a last few unpacked boxes up there.
“What’s up with that?”
“You’ll see,” he promised, sounding befittingly cryptic.
The steps groaned a little as we ascended, and without hesitation, Simon opened the door at the other end and stepped into the loft-like room upstairs, making place for me to follow. I stopped with one foot hovering over the threshold, air caught in my throat.
“I always thought dungeons were supposed to be in basements,” I forced out when my voice box started working again.
“We don’t have a basement,” Simon pointed out, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“That you don’t,” I agreed, my eyes still skipping from one piece of equipment to the next, disbelief and excitement warring inside my head. But a dungeon he definitely did have.
The room had changed a lot since I’d last seen it over half a decade ago. For one thing, it now had a hardwood floor, polished to an even shine, and huge picture windows set into the sloping ceiling, thick enough to make me guess that they were reinforced for soundproofing. Most of the walls were hidden by furniture, leaving the lavishly large space in the middle of the room unoccupied. But that was where the semblance to any other room I’d ever been in ended.
My hands felt a little bit clammy when I wiped them on my thighs, and then I took those last two steps to fully enter the room. Simon remained beside me, leaning against the wall with his arms casually crossed over his chest.
“Any questions?”
I sent him a sharp look, but I was, quite frankly, a little too intimidated to sass off to him right then.
“Want a quick tour?” he offered, taking pity on me after obviously loving how that revelation had managed to shut me up.
“Please.”
“Oh, now you suddenly know that word,” he muttered under his breath, but when I raised my brows, he shook his head and grinned. “Nothing.”
I could have explained that I had understood, but kept that to myself.
Starting a counterclockwise circle right next to the door, Simon began pointing out things.
“Saint Andrew’s cross, impact toy rack, supply closet where I keep most of my rope and other bondage gear, universal padded bench, supply cabinet for toys and miscellanea, pulley system for the suspension rack, swing. I’ve considered getting a bondage frame because I really like the one we have at the local dungeon, but I hardly use everything else to the point where I need it. Plus, it would limit the open space to the point where I’m unsure if I’d still have enough room for the bull whip.”
“Room?”
“For swinging it?”
“Ah. Of course,” I replied, trying to hide my gulp. Because that must have been vital. Hell, did I really know a first thing about whips? No.
He gave me an amused look, then turned so that he was facing me, standing just close enough to invade my personal space, but not too close.
“Not that that will concern you any time soon, if ever. Time will tell.”
“I guess,” I told him when he kept looking at me as if that required an answer.
“Just how much do you want to turn around and run off right now?”
That question surprised me, enough that it made me crack a smile. Somehow, that helped a lot to cut down on my anxiety.
“Not that bad. I’m more
fascinated than scared. Only a little?” I raised my fingers maybe two inches apart.
Simon’s grin widened.
“I think I have to work on my presentation next time.”
“Why? Do people you normally bring up here have a habit of running off?”
“Not really, but most of them have played with me a couple of times before they come here and know their way around a dungeon.” When I eyed him askance, he shrugged. “The internet has done a lot to get people curious, but I usually look for new play partners at the local community hangouts, munches, or play parties. Quite frankly, I don’t have the patience to invest time in a girl who gets scared when she realizes that BDSM is more than a light slap on the ass and a little name calling.”
“So you’re taking a risk with me here?” I ventured a guess, feeling just a little smug.
“A very small, very calculated risk. You’re a lot more intelligent than those women, not to say you’re not a total fuckwit.”
That made me snort.
“Have you ever considered that they’re running away from you rather than your dungeon?”
Leaning closer, he crossed that distance he’d been keeping between us, but I didn’t mind. Not really. And my libido definitely approved.
“Then I want to fuck them even less. I’m a package deal, winning personality included.”
It was a little hard to swallow, but I managed.
“Considering I don’t have a problem with that, I’m sure I won’t have a problem with your equipment, either.”
His smile widened.
“Isn’t that the part where people say, ‘that’s what she said’?”
“About,” I agreed, then took another look around, trying to relax again. “I guess you have a reason for showing me that now, besides full disclosure?”
“If things proceed as planned, we’ll be spending quite some time up here, so I figured I’d give you a few moments to get comfortable before I set my mind to making you a hell of a lot more uncomfortable.”
I really liked the sound of that, even if a very small part of myself started asking me if I had gone insane.
