Deposition and a Dare

by Evelyn Adams

  I’d spent plenty of time in my studio wearing nothing more than a G-string, but for the first time, standing in front of him with Erik watching me, I felt naked. It was nerve-racking, and overwhelming, and delicious all at the same time, and the longer we stood there facing each other, the stronger the feeling got.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said and the honest appreciation in his voice washed over me like a caress. “Do you trust me?”

  My smirk answered the question for me, and he laughed, a deep throaty chuckle that tightened something low in my body.

  “Let me rephrase that. Do you trust me not to hurt you? Do you feel physically safe with me?”

  I didn’t have to think about that one. I wouldn’t have brought him to the studio if I hadn’t known I was safe with him. Well, not safe exactly. I had a feeling I was in way over my head and if this went where I thought it was going, I was pretty sure much of what I believed would be shredded and replaced with something else. But I also knew he wouldn’t hurt me and I believed he’d respect my limits. I wanted to find out. It felt as if I was standing on the edge of something, peering over, and I wanted to see the other side. At a bare minimum, I owed it to my clients. At least that was the bullshit lie I told myself. In reality, it was Alex, not Lexi, who wanted to find out what it would be like with a man like Erik.

  “Yes.” I nodded, agreeing to more than the question he’d asked.

  “Good.” He set the flogger aside and reached for the knot of his tie.

  My mouth practically watered in anticipation as he loosened the silk. He pulled the tie free of his collar with a snap, and I sucked in a breath, anxious to get a glimpse of the hard body hidden under his custom suit. I had an idea of how strong he was from the way he’d caught me when I’d stumbled. I couldn’t wait to see if the reality matched my imagination.

  He popped open the button at his collar, revealing a triangle of tanned skin. Instead of shedding his jacket like I’d expected, he closed the distance between us, still holding the tie in his hands.

  I felt naked and vulnerable. I wanted him to go away, and I wanted him to touch me. It was a race to see which feeling was stronger.

  “You’re going to need a safe word,” he said, and all the breath left my body.

  Honestly, what the fuck was I expecting? Of course, I needed a safe word. It’s just that I was usually the one telling clients that, explaining things and soothing their nerves. Jensen didn’t need me to explain anything, but I had a feeling he was going to expect something I’d never given. My surrender. I’d spent a significant amount of time playing submissive to help my clients get in touch with their dominant sides, but I’d never actually submitted. I might be the naked one, but I controlled what happened in the studio.

  I topped from the bottom, and I didn’t know if I was ready to change that. The alternative was walking away, and no matter how I’d felt in the beginning, I was too curious to turn away now.

  “Mercy,” I said, hoping I hadn’t just bit off more that I could chew. “My safe word is mercy.”

  “Good girl.” He reached up to cup my cheek and I bloomed at his praise, ignoring the fact that I was naked as I leaned into his touch.

  What the hell? I didn’t have daddy issues. I grew up in an upper middle-class home with two parents and basically no conflict. Nobody’d molested me. Growing up, my parents had been proud of me and told me so. I wasn’t starving for some man’s approval. I never had been. So what was up with the way my body reacted to Jensen? He commanded, and I wanted to comply. I didn’t understand it and I didn’t like it. Or rather, my mind didn’t like it. My body was on board with any plan the arrogant attorney had, as evidenced by the fact that I was practically squirming to keep from throwing myself into his arms.

  “Close your eyes, Alexandra.”

  God, I loved the way it sounded when he said my name. I did what he said and felt him move to stand behind me. Curiosity and nerves made me tremble, and when I finally felt the silk touch my face, I jumped.

  “Easy. I’ll take care of you,” he said, his breath hot against my ear.

  Again with the words I shouldn’t want to hear. I was more than capable of taking care of myself. But I’d have to clue my body in quick. Despite what I thought, my body seemed eager to let Jensen take the lead.

  “If you want to stop or if any of this gets to be too much, I want you to use your safe word. I mean it, Alexandra. This is your first time.”

  I let out an unladylike noise at the idea that I was some kind of innocent. I made my living taking off my clothes. If you took skydiving, climbing the Himalayas, and threesomes out of the mix, I didn’t have all that many firsts left.

  Erik wrapped his fist around my ponytail and gave it a gentle tug. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to bring my attention firmly back to the present.

  “Trust me,” he said, pressing his body along my back, his lips barely a breath from my ear. “I can tell. What do you say if you want me to stop?”

  “Mercy,” I said over the whooshing sound of my heartbeat in my ears.

  Damn, I was actually going to do this thing. He wrapped what I assumed was his tie over my eyes and cinched it tight against my head. When he stepped away from me, the urge to try to peek past the silk was almost overwhelming. I started trembling as soon as I heard him at the cabinet. With the way he handled the flogger, I assumed that’s what he’d want to use. Fuck me for assuming. I knew better.

  I hadn’t actually used most of the other stuff in the cabinet. It was mainly for show and so clients could see the kind of things their partners were reading about. Like poor Peter, none of them worked up the nerve to try any of the dildos or plugs on me. They weren’t even interested in negotiating the terms. It wasn’t like I’d been eager to jump into that end of the pool. And if they expressed any curiosity in the clamps or plugs, all I had to do was suggest they try them on themselves first so they understood what it felt like before trying it with a partner. The few souls brave enough to broach the subject turned green at my suggestion and moved on to the less invasive toys. Men were such babies.

  Except I hadn’t talked about any of that with Jensen and who knew what the hell he was planning. Thinking better of this whole arrangement, I opened my mouth to call things off when I heard the cabinet latch and his steps getting closer.

  “Relax, Alexandra.” I heard the smile in his voice and I hated the idea that he was laughing at my helplessness. “I can hear you thinking across the room. I won’t touch you without telling you what I’m doing first. This time,” he said, and I wondered how sure he had to be of himself to assume we’d do anything like this ever again. I heard a swish of fabric and then sensed him standing behind me again, close but not touching. “In order for this to work, I’m going to have to trust you, too. I have to trust you not to cheat and try to look. If we’re going to do this, then be honest about it and give yourself over to the experience or use your safe word. Can you do that?”

  Well, hell, so much for peeking. I was running out of chances to say no. I thought for a long moment, making sure I could do what he was asking of me, and then I nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” he said, his voice warm with an approval I apparently craved. Damn it. “Arms out. I’m going to help you put this on.”

  I wanted to grill him about what he was doing, but before I got out the first question, I felt the brush of silk over my hand and what I was pretty sure was the sleeve of my blouse being pulled up my arm. Erik repeated the process with my other arm while I stood, stunned, in place and let him dress me like a child.

  I’d expected him to take off his clothes and instead he was putting mine back on. Maybe this whole Dom thing was his crazy way of making fun of me. Maybe he was actually gay. I didn’t think he was but since when did a dude put clothes on a woman without touching her?

  “Are you married?”

  “Fuck, no,” he said with a laugh. “Close those gorgeous lips of yours before I find something to
slip between them.”

  He’d told me to shut up and figured out how to make it sound sexy. I’d clearly gone off the deep end.

  He moved to the front of my body, and I felt the brush of his fingertips. I still wasn’t wearing a bra and the silk grazing my nipples combined with his casual, almost impersonal, touch had me squirming on my heels again. Thank God, he let me keep my panties on or I wouldn’t be able to hide the effect he had on me. I doubted I was doing all that good of a job anyway. Hiding from Erik seemed pointless. He seemed to have some kind of magic sexual sixth sense.

  I felt him close the button at the top of my blouse, the teasing touch of his fingertips maddening as he worked his way between my breasts and over the soft mound of my stomach. My nipples were so hard against the silk of my blouse, they ached. If he’d been any other man, I’d have taken his hands and put them where I needed them. But he wasn’t any man and I wasn’t ready for him to know how much I wanted him. Not yet. Not until I knew where this thing between us was going. I still wasn’t a hundred percent sure he hadn’t set up some way to embarrass or make fun of me.

  “Your breasts are magnificent,” he said as he closed the last button. “I fucking love the way your nipples stand out against the silk—like they’re aching for my mouth. Step.”

  I felt him drop to his knees in front of me, but it took a moment for my lust-addled brain to get past his words and realize he wanted me to step into my skirt. I started to raise one foot and then tottered on my heel, almost stumbling. Without thinking, I reached out to steady myself and my hand landed partly on his shoulder and partly on the warm skin of his neck. My fingertips brushed the curls that skimmed his collar and I had to fight the urge to tunnel my fingers into his hair.

  It was an almost irresistible pull, the same kind of pull I’d felt the first night in front of the bar when I’d met his gaze and then later outside the judge’s chambers before he knew who I was. It felt electric, like there was some kind of current moving between us, and I exhaled carefully, hoping the effect he had on me wasn’t completely obvious. Lack of confidence wasn’t the man’s problem. He didn’t need me doing anything to bolster it.

  “Step again,” he said, and the rough edge to his voice made me wonder if maybe he’d felt it too. Whatever the fuck it was.

  Keeping my hand on his shoulder, I stepped with the other foot, working hard to maintain the lie that I was touching him to keep from falling and not because I liked having my hands on him. He shimmied the skirt over my hips and I sucked in my stomach so he could button it and slide up the zipper. It was crazy, but having him dress me felt more intimate than standing nearly naked in front of him.

  Grasping my hips in his hands, he rested his forehead against the soft mound of my stomach. It was a gesture so unexpectedly tender, I forgot myself for a moment. I slid my fingers into his hair, stroking the soft curls and wondering if I was supposed to be the submissive, why he was the one on his knees.

  “Come on, Alexandra,” he said. I heard him inhale and then get to his feet. “We’re going out.”

  “Wait a minute.” The warm feelings I’d been having for Jensen evaporated at the idea of leaving the safety of my studio. Blindfolded. It was one thing to stand in my familiar space and not be able to see. Casting aside for a moment all the kinds of crazy I’d look walking around the city with Jensen’s tie wrapped around my head, how was I supposed to go anywhere when I couldn’t see?

  Fuck, the man outmaneuvered me. He’d found a way to really get me to submit. If I didn’t want to bounce off walls or risk walking into traffic, I was going to have to let him lead me. I had to trust him and depend on him to keep me safe. I thought we’d play tie me up/tie me down, trade a couple of orgasms and part ways. It felt screwed-up even in my head, but what he expected was so much bigger than what I’d been planning to give him.

  Unless I cheated and looked. Which I wouldn’t, because he was right. If I was going to do this, I was going to be honest about it.

  “Are you ready or do you want to use your safe word?” There was nothing playful about his tone. He wasn’t trying to tease me or goad me into this. If I left with him, it would be because I decided to do it.

  “No. I mean, yes, I’m ready.”

  “Good.” He leaned closer, and I breathed in the spicy scent of his aftershave. He draped something—his suit coat—over my shoulders. The coat smelled like him and the warmth radiating off it from his body wrapped around me like a caress.

  “Why?” I asked, curious why now, when I couldn’t see, was the moment he chose to take off a piece of his clothing. It wasn’t like it was cold outside.

  “Because,” he said, closing the last few inches between us until I could feel his breath against my ear. “I don’t want anyone but me to know how fucking amazing your tits look with nothing but a wisp of silk over them. Your nipples are already hard and I can see them clearly through the thin fabric. I’m going to be the only one to see them today.”

  He added the today. What else could he say? We weren’t even close to anything resembling a couple, and he knew what I did for a living. He couldn’t seriously be looking for any kind of exclusivity. But there was something so possessive in his tone and the way his hand held my hip. Despite the warnings my mind was giving me, my body tightened in anticipation.

  “You could let me put my bra on.” I breathed out the words, turning my head so my cheek brushed against his. That simple touch was enough to make me want more.

  “No way. Every time you take a step, I want you to feel the silk drag over your nipples. And Alexandra, I want you to imagine it’s my hands on you. My mouth.” He slid his hand from my waist up over my rib cage to cup my breast. His hand was hot against my skin and the slide of silk between his flesh and mine enhanced every touch.

  I held my breath, wanting so desperately for him to touch my hard nipples. Worried I’d do something stupid—like throw myself at him—I froze in place and waited. With what felt like the pad of his thumb, Erik stroked the pebbled tip, his touch so achingly soft, I could have cried from wanting him. My lips parted on a sigh and then he was kissing me, one hand cupping my breast while the other gripped my ponytail, anchoring me in place while his lips drank from mine.

  His touch was firm, demanding, and much too brief. I was still leaning into him, trying to follow him blindly with my lips, when he pulled away. Resting his hands on my shoulders, he gently turned me away from him.

  “Okay, there’s nothing between you and the door. Let’s go.”

  I expected him to hold my hand at least, but he didn’t touch me. He stood behind me and waited for me to move. Either we were going to stand there like that until one of us gave up or I was going to have to start walking.

  It’s not as easy as you think. Seriously, try it. Close your eyes in a familiar room and start walking. Now do it on four-inch heels with your nipples trying to carve their way out of your blouse. Point made, no pun intended.

  I took a tentative step, keeping my hands out in front of me so I wouldn’t run into anything. Erik said there wasn’t anything in front of me. It was my room. I knew there wasn’t anything between me and the wall, but I still shuffle-stepped like Herman Munster across the floor. How was I supposed to keep this up outside? At least we were in the city. People either wouldn’t notice or they’d assume it was some kind of performance art. Acceptance of outward craziness was one more thing I loved about my adopted city.

  “Keep going,” said Erik, startling me and making me almost lose my footing. “Just another couple of steps and you’re there.”

  Easy for him to say. I took a few more tentative steps and sensed the wall before I felt it. I stretched my fingertips out in front of me, inching closer until they grazed the wall. Stepping forward one more time, I rested my palms against the smooth, cool surface of the drywall. Before I had time to worry about what to do next, Erik was behind me, his hands gripping my upper arms and pressing his lips to the tender skin behind my ear. I arched my neck, inst
inctively moving toward the pleasure, and I felt him chuckle against my skin.

  “Beautiful,” he said.

  I couldn’t tell if he meant me or the job I’d done walking blindfolded. I didn’t care. I wasn’t sure why and I wasn’t sure I liked myself for it, but I wanted to please him. It had suddenly become important to me to do this right. Whatever this was.

  Sliding his hand to the small of my back, he kept up a steady reassuring pressure while I heard the sound of the door opening.

  “Careful,” he said, gently nudging me forward. “There’s a threshold.”

  I shuffled through the door, stumbling a little when the hard wood of the studio turned into the carpet in the hallway. Erik never left my side, steadying me and steering me toward the elevator. The ding and sound of the doors opening signaled the car’s arrival and suddenly everything got very real. It was one thing to stumble around my studio. It was an entirely different thing taking this show on the road. As the elevator came to a stop, my stomach did a little flip, and my nerves ratchetted up to crazy level.

  “Tell me where we’re going.” I hated the slightly desperate edge to my voice, but with the way my heart was pounding in my ears, I’d been lucky to get the words out at all.

  “That’s not how this works,” he said, sounding much too smug.

  He’d stopped touching me when we stepped onto the elevator and I’d be damned if I asked him for his help after that comment. The elevator dinged, and gathering a confidence I didn’t feel, I took mincing sliding steps in the direction of the door, picking up my feet and stepping over when I felt the threshold with my toes.