by Lexi Ward
CHAPTER FIVE
When Henry showed her into the dining room, later on, she was once again overwhelmed by what she saw. Everything was pristine and elegant. The huge, dark wooden table consumed most of the room, and could have easily sat 30 people. But sitting there, alone, was Joshua. He was at the head of the table, and he stood to welcome her, pulling out the chair to his right for her to sit in. He had also changed into a suit, and he looked even more handsome and sophisticated than usual.
“Thank you,” she said as she took her seat.
“You look lovely,” he said to her as he sat next to her.
“You look very nice as well.” She tried to keep her face from turning red and her voice from shaking.
“I hope you like steak,” he said as he looked over his shoulder.
“Who doesn’t?” she replied with a giggle.
“Great.” He clapped his hands twice. She looked behind him and saw Henry appear through a swinging door, two plates in his hands.
Throughout the meal, she couldn’t help but feel more and more intrigued by the man sitting next to her. He was suave and refined. He said all the right things at all the right times. He was no longer the forward, borderline offensive man she met at the interview. He was gentlemanly in every respect of the word.
She couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a woman in his life besides her? Not just one woman, she couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a line of women waiting to be with him! Why would he be spending his night with her, of all people?
“So, tell me, Margaret,” he said after taking a long sip of wine. “What did you do before coming to work for me?”
“I was trying to be an actress,” she said almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t doing very well at it, though.”
“You’re not from the city originally,” he observed.
“Is it really that obvious?” she asked wrinkling up her nose.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Joshua replied.
“Everyone around me seems to think it is.” She shrugged. “They all think I’m too ‘small town’ to make it in the big city.”
“Now see, when I look at you I don’t see that.”
“Really?” she asked, looking at him over the rim of her wine glass. She took a long sip before setting it down. “What do you see?”
“I see someone who is genuine—real.” As he spoke, he looked her deep in the eyes, causing goose bumps to run up her arms. “I see someone that hasn’t been hardened by life and turned bitter; someone who doesn’t need the approval of all those other people, because she’s doing what she wants, and nothing is going to stop her.”
She let out a nervous giggle, not because of what he was saying, but because of how what he said made her feel. “Well, apparently looking genuine and resilient isn’t enough to get a paid acting job.”
“At least you have this job,” he said smiling.
She took another sip of her wine, trying not to get swept away in his words and his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel herself become more and more attracted to him. As she set her glass down, she had to stop herself from reaching out to brush the back of her hand against his. She remembered the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers, and found herself longing for that feeling again. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him.
She tried to shake the thoughts from her head, focusing on the food, wine, and conversation. “What about you?” she asked him shyly. “What do you do?”
“I’m a man of business,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What kind of business?” she asked.
“Nothing that would interest you,” he replied. “Hell, it barely interests me!” He laughed a little, and Margaret joined in, perhaps laughing a little too hard—like a schoolgirl trying pathetically to flirt with her crush.
She felt her face blush red. He laughed again, this time at her discomfort. “I like your laugh,” he said reaching out and placing his hand on hers.
The contact sent a rush flooding over her. She wanted that instant to last forever. When he pulled his hand back quickly, she felt a desire to reach out and pull his hand back, holding it tightly in hers, not wanting to let the connection fade.
Her own reaction made her become more flustered. She tried to reach for her glass, but her hand was shaking slightly, and she ended up knocking it over. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, standing up quickly and grabbing a napkin to begin mopping up the mess.
“Don’t worry about that, Margaret,” Joshua said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“No, I’m so clumsy!” she scolded herself. “I can’t believe… God! How embarrassing!” She continued to try to mop up the red liquid that was spreading slowly across the table.
“Henry!” Joshua called out. “Really, Margaret. Leave it.” Even though his statement came in the form of a command, it was stated in a caring, almost concerned way.
“I should go to bed,” she said, dropping the cloth napkin into the puddle of wine. “I’m just tired, that’s all. I really should get some sleep.”
As she collected herself to leave, Henry appeared at the swinging door behind Joshua. “Yes, sir?” he asked.
“Will you clean this up?” Joshua said motioning to the spilled wine and empty plates.
“Of course, sir,” he replied. He began collecting the plates and cups and disappeared back through the door he had come from.
“Good night, Mr. McGuire,” Margaret said as she turned to head back to her room.
“Margaret,” Joshua said standing quickly to his feet. “I need something from you first.”
She turned to look back at him. “What is it?” she asked nervously.
“It’s the most important part of your job.”
CHAPTER SIX
As she followed him down the long hallway, Margaret became more and more worried. What was he going to ask of her? Was he going to ask for sex? Are her fears coming true? Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the job? Maybe she should have just sucked it up and slept on Liz’s couch a little longer until she found something a little more socially acceptable?
She could barely hear their steps echoing down the long passageway over the pounding of her heart in her ears. She was about to tell him she was uncomfortable again, but she knew that would only lead him to say something she didn’t completely understand.
When he stopped abruptly in front of the last door on the right, she was sure that even he could hear her heart beating quickly and loudly in her chest. The door was different than all of the others. It wasn’t wooden but metal. Margaret broke out into a cold sweat, and her legs began to tremble.
He didn’t seem to notice her nervousness, however. He didn’t turn to look at her as he punched in a set of numbers into an electronic keypad. “23-56-92-03,” he said to her over his shoulder. “Can you remember that?”
“Umm…” she started, her voice cracking. “23-56-93…”
“No!” he yelled as he turned to face her. His face wasn’t angry, but she could tell that he was very serious about her remembering the combination.
“23-56-92-03,” he said again loudly. She repeated the numbers correctly. He made her do it again, and then again. “It’s very important that you remember the combination, Margaret.”
“Okay,” she replied, her voice airy and weak.
As he pushed the door open slowly, he kept his gaze locked on her. She peered into the room, nervously. What she saw was exactly what she was afraid of. There were chains coming down from the ceiling and up from the floor. This is what he needed from her. He needed her to fulfill his twisted fantasies. He was going to chain her up! She wanted to run. She wanted to get as far from that room as possible. But something inside her kept her feet rooted to the ground. Was it fear? Curiosity? Shock? It didn’t matter the reason; she couldn’t pull herself away.
He walked into the room in front of her and blocked her view of the room. He turned to look down at her, his face appearing almost remorseful. He studied her express
ion for a moment. Something about the way he moved, the way he breathed, the way he looked at her, made her feel an overwhelming sense of compassion for him. She could see something behind his eyes—something sad. “I’ll need you to come here every night at 11:00pm,” he said slowly.
“Every night?” she tried to ask, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out.
He smiled at her weakly as he slid off his suit jacket and tossed it into the corner of the room. He turned away from her and walked to where the chains were piled on the floor. She took a quick step back, trying to will herself to run. “I need you to restrain me,” he said leaning over and picking up the chains.
“What?” she asked.
“Here,” he said turning to hand her one of the chains in his hand. It was one that was connected to the ceiling. “This goes on my wrist,” he explained as he held it out to her.
“I’m…” she started.
“Uncomfortable?” he asked her. He let out a weak laugh and set his eyes on hers.
“Yea,” she smiled as she walked towards him. When she took the chain from him, her fingers brushed lightly against his. The sensation filled her with an odd, unexpected feeling of comfort. She tightened the leather strap around his wrist.
“Tighter,” he said when she stepped back.
A little thrown off she stepped forward quickly and began fumbling nervously at the restraint. As she worked her hands began to shake. “Margaret,” he said, leaning down and speaking to her softly. “Don’t be nervous. Don’t be scared.” She looked up slowly. She hadn’t realized how close he was to her. He reached his free hand out and brushed back a strand of hair from her face. “Please don’t be scared.”
Again, she couldn’t speak, but now it wasn’t the confusion or worry that kept her voice trapped in her throat—it was him. His touch was soft and his eyes were piercing. She just nodded and turned to get back to working on the strap.
When she had gotten that one done tight enough, she began working on his other wrist, then his right ankle, and finally his left. She stepped back, not sure what to do now. “Thank you, Margaret,” he said no longer looking her in the eye. His gaze was fixed on the ground in front of him. The confident air he always seemed to carry himself with was completely gone. He looked almost ashamed. “Do you remember the code?”
“Yes,” she replied quietly.
“Say it.”
“23-56-92-03,” she said without hesitation.
“Good.” He nodded his head but kept his eyes fixed on the ground. “Do not come back until 7:00am,” he said firmly.
“You’re going to be in here all night?” she asked concerned. “Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” he shifted his weight around nervously. “Don’t come back until the morning. Understand? Not until 7:00.”
“I understand,” she said as she walked around him to leave the room. When she had exited, she closed the door, letting the loud clanking of metal ring down the hallway.
As she made her way back to her room, something inside her told her that everything about that situation was unusual and that she should just leave. She should want to get as far away from Joshua McGuire as possible. But still, a very small part of her wanted to stay. She wanted to feel his touch again; she wanted to be close to him again. She couldn’t get him out of her mind, and the more mysterious he became, the more she wanted to know him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When her alarm went off at 6:45 the next morning, she felt a momentary lapse of confusion. Why was she getting up so early? Then the events of the night before came flooding back to her. Joshua! He’s still chained up in the small, dark room at the end of the hall.
Pushing herself out of bed quickly, she hurried across the room to the large three-sided mirror to observe herself. She contemplated changing out of the over-sized T-shirt and shorts that she always wore to bed into something more appropriate. But, if she did would it look like she was trying to get dressed up for him? She didn’t want him to know that she was attracted to him—he was her boss. But for that same reason, wouldn’t it be inappropriate for her to go see him in her pajamas?
She leaned forward and squinted at her face in the mirror. She looked tired, and her hair was tossed around messily. She hurriedly reached for her brush on top of the dresser and ran it through her hair. She stepped back to look at herself again. She was almost convinced that she should change her clothes when she caught sight of the clock on the nightstand next to her bed—6:59.
She didn’t have time to change. She rushed out of her room, still barefooted and half asleep. When she reached the metal door at the end of the hall she hesitated for a second. Her hands began to tremble as she typed in the four-digit code. Thankfully she had remembered it correctly, and she heard the metal rods in it the shift around, and then the door popped open slightly.
Pushing it open, she almost let out a loud gasp at what she saw. Joshua’s body was hanging limply, held up only by the chains suspended from the ceiling. And he was completely naked. She noted the muscles running along his back, and his tight, defined legs. His clothes were lying on the floor around his feet, ripped to shreds. She ran around him quickly, taking his face in her hands.
His eyes were closed, and his face had become scruffy with hair overnight. There was a fine layer of sweat covering his brow. His breathing was labored and heavy, and his body seemed to be shaking slightly. “Joshua,” she said to him softly, still holding his face in her hands.
He opened his eyes quickly. They were bloodshot—it looked like he hadn’t slept at all the night before. “Margaret,” he said, his voice weak and barely a whisper.
“What happened to you?” she asked as she began undoing the restraints on his wrists. She tried not to look, but she couldn’t help but notice his strong chest, covered almost entirely in dark hair. Something about him seemed so rugged. She had never thought of him that way before. He was so professional and sophisticated, collected and refined. But now he looked strong, tough, and brawny.
In an effort not to let her gaze wander further over his naked body, she lifted her eyes to his. His eyes were the same deep blue they always were, but in that moment, they seemed to be filled with a sort of fire. The air around them suddenly became filled with tension and heat. She had to catch her breath before she could continue working on the strap wrapped around his wrist.
When his hands were free he slumped to the ground. Not wanting to be too close to him for too long, Margaret quickly knelt down and undid the bindings around his ankles. “Seriously, Joshua. Are you all right? What happened?” she asked as she pushed herself up.
He reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her before she could get to her feet. “Don’t go,” he said firmly.
His hand was wrapped tightly around her wrist. She turned her face away from him as she let him pull her down onto the floor next to him. “Joshua,” she tried to ask again, “please tell me what happened. Are you okay?”
Again, he didn’t answer. He just reached his hand up and placed it under her chin, turning her face to his. Her stomach turned to knots, and the room felt like it was beginning to spin. He ran his hand through her hair, sending a shiver run down her spine.
Something about him was just so captivating to her. She couldn’t pull herself away from his touch; she couldn’t force herself to stop as she reached her hand out to wrap it around the back of his neck.
Almost simultaneously they pulled each other close. When he pressed his lips against hers, she felt an overwhelming sensation of both satisfaction and longing at the same time. He wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her closer to him. In one swift motion, he had grabbed onto the edge of her T-shirt and lifted it off over her head. At the same time, he leaned back onto the floor, pulling her down on top of him. She felt his bare chest against hers, and her heart began to beat strong and harder.
He intertwined his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back, and kissing her neck passionately. She pressed her ha
nds against his chest. His breathing was fast, and his heart was racing. He released her hair, and moved his hands down to her hips, feeling the curve of her body, and keeping her body pressed close to him.
She sat back, and ran her fingers over his chest, outlining his muscles. His eyes weren’t as fierce as they had been before, but as they moved up and down her body, drinking her in, they were still filled with lust. He reached up and ran his hands slowly up her sides, running his fingers over her chest, and sending a tingling sensation bolting through her.
He pushed himself up so that his face was once again close to her. Still sitting on his lap, she leaned in to kiss him again. The surge of passion that spread between them caused him to wrap his arms around her, and spin her around so that she was lying on her back next to him. He reached down and pulled at the ties of her shorts. After she slipped them off, he began to kiss her passionately. Her body ached with desire for him.
