by J. A. Kerr
Mono X +XY Zone: single female with single male.
Mono X +X Zone: single female with single female.
Mono XY+ XY Zone: single male with single male.
Bonded X+ XY Zone: male and female couples.
Bonded X +X Zone: female couples.
Bonded XY+ XY: Zone -male couples
Marbella, 2012
Benedict
“S-Siena…” Benedict stammered. Her eyes blazing, she strode into the room, then slammed the door. She was like a tapestry, a perfect picture behind a tangled mess.
“Well, Mr. Harrison, if you won’t come to me, then it leaves me no alternative but to come to you.”
Her voice seemed loud in the quiet of the room.
“Siena, I’m sorry, let me explain,” said Benedict looking stricken.
“Your apologies are not necessary. I’m here now and I have taken the liberty of adding to your room service order.”
“But where is Matt?” said Benedict, concerned.
“Ah, the lovely Matt…a gentleman, but I didn’t want to hurt him to get back at you. Matt is currently at my home being entertained. I don’t think he’s unhappy; you can call him if you want.”
Benedict lifted his phone and clicked on Matt’s number. A sheepish Matt answered on the fourth ring, confirming he was indeed at Siena’s home with some of her friends and that he was staying there for dinner. Benedict had no choice but to wish him a good evening and hang up.
Benedict heard a knock at the door, but Siena got there before him. She opened it and told the waiter to put everything onto the spacious balcony, which had a large table and chairs. Several minutes later, even Benedict was impressed with the table cloth and candles, it looked fantastic, complete with chilled champagne in a bucket.
Benedict gazed at Siena, who was striking in a bright orange strapless dress, her curls piled on the top of her head, before looking ruefully at his own clothes.
“May I change?” he asked Siena. She nodded. “Be quick, I don’t want the food to get cold.”
Benedict was quick, as his stomach was rumbling; he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He joined Siena on the balcony. She appeared even more beautiful in the candlelight, softer, and again he felt his memory stir and the darkness threaten, but he closed his mind down.
***
Siena
Siena observed how he paled when he looked at her. Furious with Benedict, she had badly wanted to see him. She had never experienced the currents that flowed between them before. It was as new to her as it was to Benedict. Thinking of the night she saw Benedict, she noticed him as soon as he walked into the club. He was distinct, the type of man you don’t forget. Tall and arrestingly handsome, his blue eyes were startling even in the darkness. She watched him and his friend at the bar sipping their drinks, and had sensed his discomfort. His friend, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself, chatting to an attractive girl while Benedict stood beside them, alone and detached.
She hadn’t realised she was moving, surprising even herself as she boldly asked him to dance, reaching out her hands and pulling him towards her. His thick dark hair was swept back from his smooth, remote face. Up close, she could see his eyes lay beneath dark brows, their colour a strange glacial blue that seem to absorb and reflect the light, framed by long, thick, dark lashes. Apple cheekbones and a straight nose served to accentuate full lips, the only feature to soften his handsome face. Siena thought his eyes were his most dominant feature; the colour leaving a lasting but somewhat chilly impression. She gazed into his eyes, but they revealed nothing, even when they focused on her; they registered no real connection. Like he wanted to observe but not partake.
The resistance in his body and confusion in his eyes seemed to melt away as they started to dance. That dance was a shock, his body up close, his hands on her skin, and those eyes locked on to hers. She’d panicked and run, not stopping, pushing through the crowd until she was outside and thinking more clearly.
Relieved at first he hadn’t followed her, she then felt crushing disappointment. Looking at his photo from his company website, she caught her breath, trying to remember where she had seen him before. Although looking older in the photograph, she had recognised him immediately. In fact, she had never forgotten those opaque blue eyes and sensuous, sullen mouth.
Drawn to him once again, she couldn’t resist playing with him. In reality, she felt a bit giddy after the dance…her feel giddy? It was ridiculous; it took some effort to regain her equilibrium. She hadn’t intended to leave, but realised she couldn’t go back in there, and so she approached the reception area of the club.
“Good evening, señorita,” said the girl at the desk politely.
“Hi,” said Siena. “I wonder if you can help me.” She quickly explained what she wanted. The girl listened and smiled. Taking the card from Siena, she disappeared, returning five minutes later.
“It’s all organised and I will call you to confirm he is in receipt of both his drink and your card.”
“Excellent,” replied Siena, excited and anxious.
She climbed into her hire car, a sporty BMW Z4, and started as her phone began to ring. She answered it quickly.
“Hello.”
“Ms. Waters, your guest has his drink and your card. Is there anything else we can assist you with this evening?” said the capable voice.
“No, but thank you, I appreciate you calling so quickly,” she replied and disconnected the call.
Pressing the ignition button and accelerator, the engine roared into life. She made her way home, consumed with Benedict and the coincidence that brought him back into her life.
Had she not been looking for an exceptional architect, dismissing one design after another until her exasperated project manager suggested his company, she wouldn’t have had his cell number.
Of course, his secretary had given it to her secretary along with the details of his accommodation should she wish to get in touch with him. She didn’t mean to call him later that night, but found she couldn’t stop thinking about him and that call…the memory of that night made her shiver. Then tonight when he had sent Matt, she’d been so angry. She could easily have left it at that and fired him from the project. But here she was, and she didn’t know why this man was different. She needed to know she was still in control; she still had a few tricks up her sleeve.
On the balcony, the food was ready.
“Champagne?” asked Benedict.
“Yes,” she replied, and he poured them both a glass. “I hope you will indulge me tonight,” she said sweetly.
Benedict stared at her warily as she pulled what he thought was a napkin from its holder, only to discover it was, in fact, a hooded blindfold, the ribbon and bell nestled inside.
“Only if I can go first,” said Benedict, rising from his seat and moving around to pull the hood from her fingers. Slipping it over her head, she let out a little gasp as darkness descended.
Holding the ribbon, he pulled her arms behind her back and secured it around her wrists before moving them to check that the bell was working.
“Benedict,” she protested.
“Sssssh,” he murmured. “You know the rules.”
He stood behind her and Siena rested her head against him. He placed his hands on her bare shoulders and started to caress them. His hands stroked the nape of her neck and arms. He ran his fingers repeatedly up and down her throat again and again. Massaging, brushing and caressing until he felt her body start to respond.
Siena felt the sensations beginning to build, surprised by how difficult it was not to respond to his touch. She was usually good at this game, had played it many times before, but this was different. His hands were slow and firm as he explored her décolletage, her breath quickening as she felt his nails dragging gently down her arms as goose pimples popped up along her skin. She almost screamed when his fingers grazed the top of her breasts and had to bite her lip to stop from doing so.
They were movin
g in slow rhythmic circles, and felt like a brand as they sizzled against her skin, leaving her hot and aroused. Siena found she was almost panting. When his thumb did eventually graze her nipple, slipping inside the front of her dress, she did scream, her body jerking as the bell rung loudly. Benedict stopped, he too was breathing hard. Reaching down, he pulled the ribbon from Siena’s hands as they heard knocking at the door.
“Damn, should we ignore it?” Benedict asked, but the knocking persisted and he reluctantly moved to open it.
It was room service with what appeared to be their desserts. The waiter placed plates down on a small table at the side of the room. Turning away, Benedict fumbled in his pockets for a tip.
“Damn, I’ve left my change on the bathroom counter,” he said, annoyed. “Un momento, por favor,” he said, disappearing into the en-suite.
Siena noticed Benedict walk into the en-suite and saw her chance to slip past him. She put her fingers to her lips as she passed the surprised waiter and closed the door softly.
***
Benedict
When Benedict returned, he tipped the waiter, who thanked him before leaving the room. Talk about timing, he thought, walking out onto the balcony…which was now empty. Had he gone too far? No, he was certain she wanted him, so where the hell was she? Fury erupted in him as he realised she’d gone.
Benedict couldn’t believe she had disappeared again, and then his phone started to ring…“Where the hell are you?” he said angrily.
“I’m pulling up to the hotel,” said Matt, confused. “Did I just see Siena leaving?”
“Oh Matt, I thought…never mind, hang on to the taxi, I’ll be right down.”
Benedict grabbed the cream card with the scribbled address and sprinted down to the lobby, arriving breathless in front of Matt.
“Thanks, we’ll talk later,” said Benedict, opening the door and giving the driver the address. The driver turned the car, heading back from whence he came. Some fifteen minutes later he pulled up in front of a sleek, stylish villa and Benedict couldn’t help being impressed. He paid the driver and strode purposefully to the door, upon which he proceeded to hammer loudly. He was furious and decided to ring the bell too, just for good measure.
After some minutes, he heard heels clicking on the floor. The door swung open, and he was inside, pinning her to the wall, kissing her with such intensity he was almost out of control. Half carrying her, half dragging her, they stumbled down the hallway still locked together, their kisses savage with the need for each other. He stepped into a big white lounge, tugging her with him.
“Why did you leave?”
“I don’t know. You do things to me,” she whispered.
He pushed her against the door and pressed his body against her, pinning her arms with his.
“Do you want me to stop?” His gaze burned into hers.
Siena was terrified but shook her head, she could no longer resist him, or the feel of his hard body pressed against her. She couldn’t stop him even if she wanted to. He reclaimed her mouth as her body acquiesced.
He pulled away from her and rasped, “Where’s the bedroom?”
Unable to speak, she pointed at the door to his left. Swinging around, he lifted her, and she was like a rag doll in his arms. Kicking the bedroom door open, he moved across the room quickly, standing her abruptly beside the bed. Her eyes were ablaze as he unzipped her dress. It fell to the floor, revealing a black lace bustier and matching panties.
“I had to imagine you naked, so it’s only fair,” he says as he deftly unhooked her bustier. Her breasts sprung free, and he groaned when he saw them. He knelt before her and pulled her panties slowly down, his mouth hot on her skin as he removed them, before standing and drinking her in.
He was intoxicated with desire and longing as she stood for his approval, her nipples already hard, anticipating his touch; her lips slightly parted, ready for his kiss. But still he didn’t touch her, although he ached to do so. Instead he pushed her down onto the bed and pulled the hood and ribbon from his pocket.
“Should we continue where we left off?”
Before she could protest, he slipped the hood on. He lifted her hands and slipped on the loops before pushing them over her head. He pulled off his clothes as he spoke to her. “I want you to imagine me naked, my body close to yours,” he murmured, climbing onto the bed.
Siena gave a little moan as she felt the heat of his body. She jumped when his fingers traced the outline of her lips. Over and over his touch teased and taunted her as she panted in response. When he slipped his finger into her mouth, she sucked ferociously, and he felt his control waver. He brought his mouth down onto hers then, no longer able to resist, and the connection was all consuming.
Pinning her arms, his mouth started to explore her. His tongue ran up and down her neck. She wriggled and arched her back in an attempt to free herself so she could touch him, but his grip was firm, it was time for payback. His lips were on her skin, kissing her neck, nipping it, sucking it…but he was careful not to mark her. His fingers grazed and teased her breasts, her hardened nipples tight under his touch.
He just couldn’t get enough of her as he suddenly let her arms go. His mouth moved to suck hard on first one hardened nipple before moving to the next as she screamed his name, begging him, bucking wildly. He pushed her legs apart and slipped his fingers inside.
He watched Siena, almost out of her mind with the need for release as her hips moved to the increasing rhythm of his fingers. At her peak, at last he plunged inside her. The sensation was exquisite as she thrust to meet him, their bodies totally in tune. Moving frantically, he pushed deeper and deeper inside until he felt his mind disconnect as his body exploded, and he was adrift…Their climax took them to heights neither of them had felt before…and they were both lost. Slippery with sweat, they lay entwined, and for that moment nothing else existed.
Chapter 9
THE BRAILLE CLUB
Braille Club, London, Present Day: Braille members mix with Harrison members within Caligo, which is not only a weekend night club; it also hosts numerous entertainment functions mid-week. London is a vibrant city that likes to party and the club is always busy. Members mingle with city bankers, whose companies provide them with Harrison’s Memberships as one of the many perks of their job. Deals are often struck with their prominent clients whilst playing the tables on their corporate casino nights. Being bankers, the money is not theirs; therefore the risk is only to their pride. Nevertheless, stakes are high with winnings being used later in the charity auction. Competition is fierce, and egos clash. Tension fills the room as the players outdo each other and bids become reckless. The manager with the most chips always takes the star prize for their client and their victory does not go unnoticed. Poor losers, their colleagues simmer as they lick their wounds, leaving them hungry for more…just like the Braille members waiting for their key to vibrate.
Abbey
Abbey’s motives for joining The Braille Club were mixed and bordered on desperation as her footballer husband’s string of affairs had left her broken and humiliated. She was attractive—gorgeous in fact—but when it came to her husband, it didn’t seem to matter how thin she was or how beautiful she looked. Remembering his most recent betrayal plastered all over the media, she felt hot tears on her cheeks and brushed them away angrily.
She had told Steve she needed time to think. She should have thrown him out, but just couldn’t muster up the energy. He was away with the team, and it was a blessing. Steve was contrite and pleading, promising her these women meant nothing to him, and in a way she believed him. He had no idea why he kept doing it, only that he loved her and would she give him yet another chance.
In turmoil, Abbey felt totally numb. Her friends had been so supportive the first time the news broke of an affair. They rallied around her, giving her a shoulder to cry on and making sure her wine glass was never empty. The second time affair allegations hit the papers they were more reserved, and gent
ly recommended a good divorce lawyer, telling her he was a serial adulterer, and she should cut her losses.
When this final humiliation came, they had screamed, “Enough is enough!”
One by one, they started to distance themselves. Suddenly they were busy, unavailable, or just didn’t answer her calls or texts. That had hurt, and this time she didn’t stop the tears; clutching her stomach, she let out an anguished sob.
She needed something of her own. Successful in her own right, money was not a problem, but she did hesitate when she realised the cost of membership. Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds for a Key Holder’s membership was expensive. She was told about the club via a powerful friend who sympathised with her; one of the few who still did, and who had sponsored her application, telling her the membership offered her complete privacy. That swung it for her; she had hardly been out of the media over the last few months and she craved anonymity above all else.
She tried not to analyse her decision. Revenge on Steve was a major motive but empowering herself was more pressing. Was she like a drowning woman grasping at this membership to keep her life afloat? It was a lot of money, but she was intrigued and desperate to find someplace she would be protected. She felt her life and marriage had been laid bare by the media, her privacy invaded, and her dignity violated. They may not have assaulted her physically, but emotionally she had sustained horrific injuries.
She was a prisoner in her own home for weeks; paparazzi camped outside, watching her every move. Eventually they left and moved on to another poor bastard, and Abbey’s life had gradually become easier. Not the pain though; there was nothing like the pain of betrayal. It’s the sort of pain that eats you from the inside, your mind like a knife slashing viciously at your heart, not content until it’s cut it to ribbons.
