I shook my head. "Nope. I just had to escape before pumpkin o'clock."
Sliding closer, he wrapped his arms around my hips, locking my body against his. "So if you're Cinderella, that makes me Prince Charming then?"
Whatever lingering frustration I'd felt instantly melted away. "I guess so," I said, my voice suddenly fluttering. How the hell does he keep doing that to me?
"Well then, I believe that means that since I've returned your lost slippers, we're meant to kiss now."
I knew I should probably stop him. Someone could walk in at any moment. But as usual, I seemed to have no willpower where he was concerned. Craning his neck, he brought his mouth down to meet mine. The kiss was somehow firm and hungry, yet impossibly soft, and the warmth of it flowed through me. As our bodies rocked back against my desk, he reached up and ran one hand roughly through my hair, driving us together, as though someone might steal me away at any moment.
Some indeterminable time later, he broke away. "I do believe I should bring you things more often," he said with a smile.
"I'm not sure I'd ever get much done if you did." Glancing and the clock I winced. "Speaking of getting things done, you should probably go. As much as I don't want to go back to this stuff, it'll just be there tomorrow if I don't do it today."
I slipped out from under his arms and reached to open the door, but he followed behind me, catching my wrist in his hand and sliding up against me until my body was pressed into the wood. Trapped again.
"I'm sorry we don't have more time," he said, drawing his free hand softly down my hip. "I do like the idea of fucking you right here."
I could feel his excitement jutting into my lower back like hot metal. Just a few inches lower and... Jesus Sophia, you're at work for fuck's sake.
"This is my office, Sebastian," I said, trying to sound disapproving. I didn't do a very good job.
Dropping his head down he brushed his lips gently across the curve of my neck. "Well, I guess that wouldn't be proper," he whispered. "We'll just have to wait. Are you free tomorrow night?"
"I think so."
"Good. Then come to the Royal Bay hotel, room four hundred, at eight o'clock."
"You said you wanted to start learning more about what it is to submit, so tomorrow I'm going to show you. I think you'll find the experience... eye opening." Releasing me, he took a step back and opened the door himself. "Until then, Sophia." And before I could muster a reply, he was gone.
I stood for a few moments trying to collect myself, his final words still ringing in my ears. Last time we'd been together, in the heat of the moment, I'd said that maybe I wanted to be shown something more, but now he'd called me on it. Well what the hell did you think he'd do, missionary with the lights off forever?
In spite of what his dominance did to me, I still had my doubts. There was a big difference between a bit of playful restraint and the sorts of things he enjoyed. Was I really one of those girls?
Apparently I was about to find out.
The next morning I took a long shower and then ventured outside to find breakfast, looking forward to doing not much of anything. At the start of the year, I promised myself I'd take one Sunday a month off from work entirely. When you work for a big law firm, it's easy to lose all sense of balance. One day a month doesn't sound like much, but it's enough to feel like you've still got some semblance of control over your life.
I brought a book along with me. I used to love to read in high school, but with free time an ever shrinking commodity, my 'to read' pile kept growing faster than I could get through it. Those Sundays were about the only time I ever made any progress.
I leafed through a few pages, trying my best to concentrate, but my mind kept wandering back to Sebastian. It annoyed me. I wasn't the sort of girl who pined after men. For me, sex had always been just another fun way to pass the time. Except with Sebastian, it was something more.
I wasn't sure whether to be afraid or excited about the coming evening. He'd given me almost no clues about what to expect.
That morning, I'd received a text message.
I want you to bring something with you tonight. A length of red ribbon, about three feet long.
I didn't know why he couldn't simply bring it himself, but at least I had some vague idea of what lay in store. As far as I could see, a ribbon could only be to bind me, so I knew I'd likely be restrained, but beyond that I was still in the dark. I suspected that was part of the experience. On the plus side, I now had his number.
I finished my breakfast, stubbornly forcing my way through a few chapters, before throwing in the towel. It was time to go shopping.
There was a fabric store just a few blocks from my place. It was a little strange to be hunting for something so kinky in such a mundane location. Sebastian had turned a simple act of shopping into something decidedly more sordid. As I walked the aisles, I found myself staring at the ground, trying my best not to meet the eyes of the other customers. It didn't help that the store seemed to be entirely populated by little old ladies. There was no way they could know why I was really there, but nonetheless, after I paid, I hustled out of the store as quickly as possible, burying the ribbon in the bottom of my bag.
The rest of the day passed at a snail's pace. I tried to enjoy my time off by catching up on some television I'd DVR'd, but I found it difficult to concentrate. I was nervous and buzzing with energy.
Seven thirty rolled around, and after finding nothing that screamed 'kinky hotel rendezvous' in my wardrobe, I threw on the closest thing I had — a bright red cocktail dress that flared at the bottom — and headed for Circular Quay once more. I was probably going to be early, but I got the impression that tardiness would not go down well tonight.
The hotel was only a minute's walk from the restaurant we'd been at a few weeks back. A girl could get used to this kind of living, I thought, as I walked along the wharf.
There was a storm rolling in from the south. The sky looked angry, bruised purple and swollen with rain; sea spray rode on the whipping wind. People seemed to have wisely taken the hint and stayed inside. Aside from a few gallant restaurant patrons, the area was largely empty.
The Royal Bay was a deceptively simple looking building. Unlike most city hotels, it was only a few stories tall, and the warm glow that trickled from the windows lent it a homely feel. But sitting on the docks, just meters from the water, it was definitely a step up from the Holiday Inn.
"Hi," I said to the elegant middle aged woman behind the reception desk, "I'm here to meet a friend of mine. He said to come to room 400."