‘Er…what shall I wear?’ My head was spinning. I felt sick. My body was telling me what a bad idea this was, but my heart wouldn’t let me quit. It’s just dinner, I told myself. You can get him alone and ask him about Olivia, and The Academy, and about his powerful position in the council. A few drinks could be all it takes.
‘Something saucy,’ said Maria with a low chuckle. ‘Our J likes to see what’s on offer. He doesn’t care about what’s on the cover of Vogue – just what’s underneath the covers, if you catch my drift. You can go high-class hooker or cheap and slutty – either way will work for him.’
‘I get you,’ I said, working hard to recall if Mia had said anything on her blog about J’s tastes in underwear. She always drew herself in stockings and suspenders, and often corset-type things. A trip to that woman’s naughty knickers shop might be in order, I thought.
‘Tomorrow at seven thirty, then,’ she said. ‘I’ll text you the address.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘Looking forward to it.’
Which was a bit like looking forward to my doom. But I had to say something.
I changed my mind approximately six hundred and thirty two times over the course of the rest of the night and the morning after. My finger was poised on my phone, ready to text Maria that ‘something had come up’ so often it was on the verge of contracting a repetitive strain injury.
But on Sunday afternoon, after a lunch I’d merely stared at and then pushed aside, I found myself at the door of Wanton Woman, eyeing the PVC basques and cute heart-shaped paddles in the window, and making furtively sure nobody I knew was in the immediate vicinity.
I could turn away now. I could go back home and make plans with Mehra and Jess.
But Louise had seen me, and she dashed over from the counter to open the door wide, a bell jangling above our head as she beamed at me.
‘Well, hello, stranger,’ she said. ‘Great to see you here. Come in, come in. I’ll give you the full VIP treatment.’
She led me into a sumptuous boudoir-themed space, swagged in black and red velvet and hung with leather harnesses and brocade corsets along one wall.
‘This is the fetish gear,’ she said, waving a hand. ‘Over there we have implements and accessories – you know, whips and dildoes and all that. We’ve a few books and DVDs at the far end, and a big back room full of undies. Are you looking for anything particular today, or did you just want to browse? I’ve done my best to make it a place women will like to come into – not like those old-fashioned dirty-mac sex shops. What do you reckon? Do you like it?’
‘It’s…nice,’ I said, trying to acclimatise to the red-lit vibe and the collection of strange and scary-looking items on the shelf at the back of the room. ‘Tasteful.’
‘Thank you! That’s what I’m going for. Discreet, you know, but fun as well.’ She went back behind her counter and pulled out a pair of glittery nipple pasties from underneath it.
‘Our latest,’ she said. ‘For your inner burlesque artist. Cute, aren’t they? Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t answer my question – did you come in for something specific?’
‘Actually, I wanted to…the thing is…I have a kind of date tonight…’
‘How exciting! Is it with Tom?’
What was with everyone assuming I was getting it on with him? The question twisted the already very twisted knife in my heart.
‘No, it isn’t with Tom,’ I said. ‘Nobody who was there last week. Just someone off Safeword.’
‘A dom?’
‘Yes.’
‘Congratulations. How exciting – your first kinky date. Well, I’d love to help you. What sort of date is it?’
‘Dinner, and then…I don’t know. Depends if we like each other, doesn’t it? But even if we don’t, I’d like to be prepared, with something gorgeous under my dress.’
‘Of course you would. So – how kinky do you want to make it? I’ve got everything from bridal ivory to crotchless latex.’ She laughed. ‘That might be better on a second or third date, though. But you know best.’
‘I was thinking maybe some kind of corset or bustier. With stockings and suspenders and fancy knickers. Something to nip in my waist and push up my boobs, if you know what I mean.’
‘Trust me, girl, I know exactly what you mean. Come through to my lingerie lounge.’
‘Lingerie lounge?’ I grinned, despite my nerves.
‘I know, it sounds cheesy, doesn’t it? But it makes people laugh, which can put them at their ease. I still get a lot of nervous nellies in here.’
I was the most nervous nellie of them all, following her through a beaded curtain into a smaller back room, which was wall-to-wall intimates. They were colour-coded – lots of black, in all kinds of textiles, working round the room through the dark jewels to the light pastels and ending with white. A gleaming white rubber playsuit was the last item on the rail, with cut-outs where nipples should be. I couldn’t take my eyes away from it; I was the rabbit and it was the headlights.
‘That’s on special,’ said Louise casually, running her hand over it. ‘White latex doesn’t seem to sell like the other colours, for some reason.’
‘Oh,’ I said, pulled out of my gruesome fascination. ‘No. Latex might be horribly hot. I don’t know if the place we’re eating at has central heating or not.’
‘Good point.’ She grinned. ‘A practical sub, like myself. So – black, red, purple? Something a bit different? These green and pink sets are pretty.’
‘I don’t know enough about his taste yet,’ I said, turning to the darker shades. ‘I think I might play it safe. Basic black. Or rather, not that basic.’ I fingered a frilly suspender belt with a leather lace-up feature.
‘OK. Let me pull a few things out for you and you can have a trying-on session. I’ll keep the area clear until you’re done, OK?’
She grabbed an armful of lacy flimflam and put it on a chair for me, then pulled a full-length mirror out of hiding.
‘I’ll guard the counter,’ she said. ‘Give me a shout if you want opinions.’
Obviously I wasn’t able to try on the knickers or stockings, so I had to imagine them under the various magnificent corsets and basques I hook-and-eyed my body into. My plain Jane black cottons didn’t really enhance the effect, but at least I’d taken off my jeans. I tried five different shape-squeezers, eventually deciding on a black self-striped satin number with silk ribbon ties up the front – easier to get on. And off. Oh, God. I didn’t want to think about that.
It would look great with my black pencil skirt and office jacket – a winning combination of sophistication and glamour that hinted at availability without advertising it all over town. And only I would know that I was wearing suspenders underneath.
‘Louise,’ I called, ‘what do you think of this? Do you think it’s the right size, or could I go smaller?’ Actually, even saying that out loud made me gasp for breath. It was more than tight enough, but I was a little bit in love with my new silhouette, finally earning Tom’s ‘Foxy’ nickname.
Louise jingled through the bead curtain and stood with her hand on her hip, whistling.
‘Woah, momma,’ she said. ‘He’ll be all over you, the lucky dog. Give us a twirl. Lovely. What knickers are you going to have with it?’
I bent to rummage among the little froths of lace on their mini-hangers. I was still in the act of bending when a man’s voice called Louise’s name.
I knew that voice. I dropped a pair of silk French knickers under the chair and was still scrabbling for them on hands and knees when the bead curtain rattled once more and we found ourselves entertaining male company. Tall, handsome, leather-jacketed, sexy as ever-living fuck male company.
‘Lou, I wanted to…oh.’
He broke off, but rather than apologising and getting the hell out of there, he seemed as frozen in mid-motion as I was.
‘Oh, hello, Tom,’ said Louise. ‘I got your message, but I thought you weren’t coming until the shop closed. Do you mind? We’re a little bit busy here.
’
‘Yeah,’ he said unevenly. I still hadn’t dared look at him. ‘Yeah, you are. Er, hello, Ella. Ellie.’
‘Ellie’s dressing for a hot date,’ said Louise. ‘But really, we could use a little privacy…’
‘Of course,’ he said, apparently coming to whatever senses he had. ‘I’ll…shall I come back later?’
‘Probably best, love,’ said Louise. ‘I shut early on a Sunday – five o’clock.’
‘A hot date,’ he echoed after a short pause, then, ‘Right, later, then.’
Only the knowledge that I was wearing nothing but a corset, a suspender belt and a pair of M&S big knickers stopped me haring out into the street after him. I needed to talk to him, but…
‘These ones, then?’ said Louise, holding up a two-pack of sheer hosiery.
‘Oh, yes, fine,’ I said. ‘You…you’re seeing Tom later?’
‘Well, he left a message on the shop phone asking if he could talk to me,’ she said. ‘To be honest, I thought he was going to ask my advice about you. Maybe buy you a present. But apparently I read that one all wrong.’
‘Apparently,’ I said, and she must have caught the anguish in my tone because she gave me a vivid, sympathetic look.
‘Oh, love,’ she said, putting a hand on my arm. ‘You do like him, don’t you? Do you want me to put in a good word later?’
‘Oh, no, it’s fine. Please don’t talk to him about me.’
‘All right. Besides, you’ve got other fish to fry. Who is the mystery man?’
‘I can’t really say. He’s pretty secretive, from what I’ve heard. I only know his initial. We’re meeting up at Maria’s, so she can play chaperone.’
‘Oh, my, we are privileged,’ said Louise, a mite tartly. She took the corset off me once I’d unlaced it and marched primly into the main shop. ‘I’ll bag these up for you.’
It seemed to have been a bad idea to mention Maria. Was there some kind of status involved in getting an invitation from her? Had Louise never been invited herself?
And how was I to know all this bloody kink etiquette anyway?
Rather crossly, I struggled back into my black skinnies and pulled my jumper over my head. Back in the shop, my goods were waiting in their glossy red plastic bag – luckily it wasn’t emblazoned with the shop’s name. I didn’t fancy advertising myself as a Wanton Woman to half the town. Even if I was.
‘Good luck tonight,’ said Louise, after I’d paid the full amount. Hadn’t she said something about a discount for friends? So much for that. ‘I hope Mr Initial-Only appreciates good-quality underwear.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Perhaps you’ll both be in here next weekend, shopping for toys,’ she suggested.
‘Yeah, perhaps. Thanks, Louise. I…I hope I’ll see you soon.’
There was no reply to that, so I headed out and stood in the street for a good five minutes, trying to work out if I could make out Tom amongst the indifferent crowds drifting this way and that along the dismal, traffic-jammed road.
No.
I tried to call him, but he wouldn’t pick up. There was nothing for it but to go ahead with the plan.
I was in a taxi on the way to Maria’s place on the edge of the city when my phone rang. I had been sitting straight, spine stiff, smoothing my hands over my tight skirt so that I could feel the suspender bumps beneath, wondering whether a few good deep breaths might help the churning of my stomach.
The phone’s sharp shrill didn’t help at all. It made me jump half off the seat, especially when I checked the screen and saw that it was Tom.
‘Oh, my God,’ I blurted, holding the phone in shaking hands. ‘It’s you.’
‘Yes. It’s me. Sorry about that.’
‘Don’t be. I’ve been trying to get hold of you since Friday.’
‘And in the meantime somebody’s got hold of you. You don’t waste your time, do you?’ His voice was cold and a sliver of its ice found its way inside me.
‘You don’t understand. It’s not what you think. Tom, have you really quit the Clarion?’
‘Never mind that,’ he said. ‘Listen. I’ve just finished talking to Louise and she says your hot date tonight is at Maria’s, with a man known only by his initial. Is that right?’
I held my breath. What was he going to say?
‘Is that right, Ella?’ he persisted. ‘Is it Judd Keane?’
‘I…doing this for you…’
‘Is it Judd Keane?’
‘Yes,’ I whispered.
‘Are you fucking insane?’
The volume of this question was such that I had to hold the phone away from my ear.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I just want to ask him some questions, that’s all. I’m not…interested in him.’
‘Oh, Christ. You can’t do this. Why are you doing this?’
‘Because I don’t want all your work to go to waste. Because I think he knows what happened to Mia. Because it’s the best chance anyone has of stopping him now.’
‘Ella,’ he cried. ‘Oh, God. This is madness. He’ll eat you for breakfast. Look, you can’t do this. Call Maria and cancel. Tell me where you are and I’ll come and pick you up.’
The taxi had pulled up outside a large detached house on a newbuild estate. Golden light glowed through the diamond-paned windows. The front door opened and Maria stood there, smiling and radiant in a stunning tight black satin sheath.
‘I can’t. I’m here. Maria’s seen me.’
‘Tell me the address.’
‘You can’t come here! Keane knows you.’
‘Tell me.’
‘No!’
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake – I’ll find it out myself. It’ll take me ten minutes. It’s my job, Ella.’
‘Tom, just leave it. I’ll call you afterwards, all right.’
‘Ella, do as you’re told, or…’
But I ended the call and turned off my phone for good measure, while Maria was paying off the cabbie. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice my agitation but helped me out of the taxi and air-kissed me in a cloud of fragrance more powerful than the drab, smoky November air.
‘Darling, how exciting. You look wonderful.’ She put her lips to my ear, whispering conspiratorially. ‘J can’t wait to meet you. He’s like a cat on hot bricks. Come and say hello to him.’
I zipped my phone inside my bag, took Maria’s arm and let her lead me into my uncertain destiny.
The only person in the large living room was an unfamiliar man, strangely dressed in the upper half of a tuxedo and a pair of boxers. He was pouring some drinks from a cabinet in the corner.
‘This is Martin,’ said Maria. ‘He’s been forbidden to wear trousers tonight, haven’t you, Martin?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, then he nodded to me. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘I’m Ellie,’ I said, trying very hard to keep my gaze fixed on his upper half.
‘Yes, mistress has told us about you. May I serve you?’
‘Er…’
‘He means, would you like a drink,’ translated Maria.
‘Oh, yes, thanks. White wine, please.’
‘I’ll bring it out for you,’ he said, as Maria led me onwards, to a large conservatory overlooking a small, trim garden. The fence, I was interested to note, was high enough to keep any prying neighbourly eyes firmly out, not that the fence was my principal point of focus. That distinction belonged to the tall, dinner-suited man who rose from his seat as we entered and looked me up and down with an expression both tense and hungry.
I had never been at close quarters with Judd Keane before, and it was only now that a true sense of his size hit home. He was very tall, even an inch or so bigger than six-foot-two Tom, and much broader in the chest and shoulders than my snake-hipped lover. I certainly wasn’t going to be able to wrestle the truth out of him, that was for sure. It wasn’t easy to tell his age – he had to be over fifty, but could easily pass for ten years younger. A few lines around the corners of the eyes and a bit
of silver in the sandy brown hair were the only telltale signs. The photographs in the Clarion didn’t really do him justice. He was handsome, in a broad, bluff, almost noble way. He looked the absolute opposite of the sneaky snake in the grass I knew him to be. Perhaps that was part of how he got away with it. He looked like a good man, so people assumed he was.
He held out a ridiculously huge hand and I put my pathetic little paw into it. He clasped it tight, not quite shaking it, just holding it at arm’s length while his eyes drank me in and his smile, tight at first, widened into something more genuine.
‘You must be the famous Ellie,’ he said in the deep tones I recalled from the Valmont. ‘I’m J.’
‘Hello, J,’ I said, wondering how to fake being at ease.
‘I’ve heard all about you,’ he said, still holding on to my hand. ‘Maria didn’t exaggerate.’
‘That’s…good,’ I said faintly.
Martin arrived with a tray of drinks and J released me – reluctantly, it seemed – so I could take a seat opposite him.
‘That’s a lovely bow tie you’re wearing, Martin,’ said Maria, taking her own seat at my right. ‘But why don’t you take it off and loosen your collar? I want to check that you’ve obeyed my instructions.’
She smiled benevolently as Martin obeyed her instructions. He unbuttoned his collar to reveal…another collar. A studded leather dog collar.
‘Good boy,’ approved Maria. ‘Kneel and let me attach your leash.’
Martin knelt at her feet while she clipped on a dog lead. She yanked at it playfully once it was attached, but he managed to maintain his position.
‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you fetch the food from the kitchen? Then you can kneel at my feet while we eat.’
Only now did I notice that there were only three place settings. I wondered if Martin would get to participate in the meal at all, and felt rather sorry for him. I hoped J wouldn’t expect this human dog act from me.
‘You and Martin…?’ I said, once he’d trotted off.
‘As I told you – a long-term client. We’ve become friends. But never mind us. I want your first impressions, darlings. J?’
‘Very good,’ he said, his eyes still fixed on me, as they had been since I entered the room. ‘Very nice. And you’re new to all this?’
Fast and Loose Page 18
