J ames

The worst part is how easy she went along with it all, like quitting her old, familiar jobs to plunge headlong into public life was just part of our deal. She does this thing, sometimes, where I can’t tell whether she’s really smiling, or that’s just the expression she hides her feelings behind .

Diana swears she knows what she’s signed up for, but how could she? She went straight from high school to college to full-time employment, with her dad’s slow decline swallowing her spare time all the way. She’s strong, but she’s sheltered .

Wish there’d been some way to ramp up to this, take it slow .

Someone’s cloying cologne washes over me, almost making me sneeze. “Quite a night.” Ugh. She invited Nasmith ?

“Jim! Place looks great!” And Tom. Thank goodness for Tom .

I shake his hand warmly, glad of the opportunity to snub Nasmith. “Pretty great, huh? She did all this herself .”

Tom cranes his neck, taking in the crowd, the musicians, the makeshift runway with its smooth surface reflecting the fairy lights strung above. “Gotta admit, I’m impressed .”

“How much is all of this costing?” And there he goes again—Nasmith, professional cloud-hunter. Hand him a silver lining, watch him conjure a thunderhead. “I mean, will there be anything left for the charity? What is it, anyway?—Lupus ?”

“Multiple sclerosis.” I feel a nasty grin tugging at my lips. This time, I’ve got the high ground. I take Nasmith by the elbow, bending my head close to his. “See those musicians over there? Youth orchestra chamber group. Pretty good, huh ?”

“For amateurs, I — “

“And the models you’re gonna see, a little later—high school drama students. Getting paid in extra credit, plus volunteer hours for their transcripts .”

“What about the food? Am I going to get salmonella from some...home-ec class sushi ?”

I push Nasmith away, tired of this game. “No. The caterers are professionals. So’s the security, so you better be good.” I slap on a big, fake smile. “Anyway, better mingle—Tom.” I nod at him, snubbing Nasmith one more time, and beat a hasty retreat .

That was...actually one for the victory column. And so’s this whole night. Diana did a lot of it herself, stringing lights, arranging flowers, slaving over seating charts, all in the name of cutting costs. Even now, she’s back there zipping and buttoning and lacing the models into their outfits .

It’s got to be weird for her—new to this scene, not a single friend or ally, pulling everything together by the skin of her teeth. I could’ve introduced her around, showed her the ropes...if I’d ever made an effort myself. If I knew any of these people from Adam. Instead, she has a PA and a publicity team—a bunch of strangers, doing my job .

My heart aches as the curtains part and she strides down the runway, resplendent in her white silk gown. She doesn’t look anything but confident, thanking everyone for coming, promising a great show. Like she’s been doing this her whole life .

I finally allow myself a brief, genuine smile .

When she turns to walk away, my eye’s drawn to a bright red stain on the back of her shoe, where the leather’s cut into her heel and drawn blood. It bothers me, not just for what it is, but what it represents. Sacrifice. Unfair choices .

I force myself to look at it till the curtains swallow her up. That’s the bargain I’ve struck: She bleeds, I profit .

“She looks great. Really in her element .”

I jump. Didn’t notice Tom falling in beside me. “Thanks. Thanks—she does. She is .”

The first of the models strides out, draped in a long, swirling coat trimmed with some kind of heavy lace. She does a slow spin at the end of the runway, letting the coat billow out around her. The crowd’s eating it up, clapping and cheering, holding up their phones to take pictures. I haven’t been to a whole lot of these things, but even I can tell this one’s a success .

In all the excitement, I almost miss my phone vibrating against my leg. It’s a text from Diana: You should see the garden here. Backstage, down the hall, out the door to the right .

I survey the crowd. No one’s looking my way. I slip out the back and into the grounds, relaxing in the sudden quiet. This place really is something, even in winter. A quaint bridge arches over a frozen stream. Little orange lamps wend their way along the banks, casting their mellow light over the ice and snow .

A pair of soft-gloved hands covers my eyes. “Boo !”

I turn around. “You’re supposed to say ‘Guess who ?’”

“Oh? Didn’t know there were rules .”

“’Course there are. ‘Boo’ is more like...when you sneak up on me in the dark, make me scream like a girl .”

“I’ll remember that.” She snuggles right up to me. “How’s it going in there ?”

“Surprised you’re not basking in your triumph yourself.” I steal a little kiss. “Seriously, it’s incredible. What are you doing out here ?”

“Well, I was chaperoning one of the models, who just had to have a smoke, but actually....” She points at a large, elaborate birdhouse, nestled in a stand of icebound trees. “Know what that is ?”

Real happiness bubbles up in my chest. “A dovecote.” I turn to her. “An actual dovecote! That’s ....”

“A good omen, right? I mean, how often do you see one of those things? And then there just happens to be one, the first place we hold one of these things?” She takes out her phone, holding it up for a photo. Quick as thought, one shadow detaches itself from the others, and suddenly, a kid’s racing across the garden, and out the gate. Diana shrieks and staggers against me .

I slip on the ice, and nearly pull her on top of me. She jerks and totters, and I end up flat on my ass, staring into her wide, shocked eyes. “Shit—you all right ?”

“Yeah, just—“ She glances over her shoulder. “That fucker snatched my phone !”

“What?”

“Ran right off with it, the little hooligan !”

I pick myself up off the ground, dusting snow off my pants. “Did you see who it was ?”

She shakes her head. “Just saw a hoodie. You ?”

“A sphincter on legs .”

Diana starts laughing at that. “Here—give me yours.” She holds out her hand. “I’m getting that photo .”

I hold out my phone. “Did he hurt you ?”

“No. Got a shock is all.” She snaps a shot of the dovecote, then another with me standing beside it. When she hands back my phone, I feel her shivering .

“Let’s get inside before we turn into a couple of icicles .”

She nods. “Guess we should talk to security, anyway. Make sure he’s not still hanging around. It would suck if we did all this, and all anyone remembered was some—some phone-snatching asshat .”

She’s limping a little, as she heads back inside—a slight unsteadiness, barely noticeable, but my eyes dart back to that red spot on her heel .

“I’m sorry.” Not just for the phone .

She shrugs it off. “Eh, no biggie. I’m not one of those people who keeps my whole life on there. I’ll waste a morning re-entering my contacts, and that’ll be that .”

The dreaded crime spree never happens. Diana leaves me to a plate of kappa maki, the only sushi I can stomach, and heads out to do some mingling. If there’s a guest she doesn’t schmooze, a cater-waiter she doesn’t thank, I can’t spot them .

It’s not till we’re safely in the limo, shielded behind tinted windows, that her pain shows through. She sinks into the upholstery, toeing her shoes off with clear discomfort. She hisses as a fresh trickle of blood runs down her heel .

“Oh, that doesn’t look good .”

“Just a blister.” Somehow, she finds it in her to reassure me, patting me on the knee even as she lets her head droop on my shoulder. “Going to take a long bath, soak out my aches and pains, and then ....”

“Mm?”

“You still haven’t claimed your revenge. Y’know, for the....” She shakes her curled hand in a crude jerkoff gesture. “On the couch .”

“Oh, you think you’re up for my righteous wrath ?”

“Crying out for it.” Her hand sneaks between my thighs, stopping just shy of my cock. Already, I’m getting ideas. “Been smiling so much my mouth’s frozen that way. Think you can loosen it up ?”

I lean in close enough to growl in her ear. “Won’t be a part of you I don’t worship or punish or turn to jelly .”

“Perfect....”

Feels like far too long before we’re pulling up in front of the house. I carry her shoes for her, so she’ll have both hands to keep Percy off her dress. He’s taken a real shine to her since she moved in: I’m pretty much chopped liver, at this point. It occurs to me she’s already carving out a place in my life. The days of sheet-covered furniture and ankle-deep dust are over, and I haven’t had a frozen pizza in weeks. I cook her breakfast instead of hitting the diner; she has dinner waiting for me when I get home. We’ve got a rhythm, one that would already hurt to give up .

Surely she won’t leave at the end of the contract, take that million and run.... I’ve seen real marriages—traditional marriages—start out a lot shakier than ours. And we fit together. Can’t explain it, but we...match. Like two puzzle pieces .

I watch her tiptoe up the stairs, favoring her left foot. Gotta be more careful if I don’t want to mess this up—make sure she knows I’m looking out for her .

By the time Diana comes out of the bath, I’m torn between lust and a sneaky sort of melancholy. It’s been a weird night: triumphant for all the wrong reasons, with a side of pain. She lingers in the doorframe in her white silk slip, a froth of lace clinging to her hips. I wonder if she knows how she looks, with the light from the hallway haloing her hair. Might as well be naked, the way it’s shining through her slip .

I reach under the pillow and pull out a long silk scarf, deep red and sinful. “Come here .”

She comes to me. I loop the scarf around her waist and pull her down on top of me. Her skin’s still warm from the bath. Soft, too, so soft I regret not undressing myself. I want to feel her against me from top to toe, not a breath of air between us .

But, no. Not tonight. Tonight, I have something else in mind. I jerk the scarf up to the nape of her neck, and gather it in till her breath mingles with mine. “Still trust me ?”

“Maybe a tad farther than I could throw you .”

That gets her a light swat on the ass. “Mean! Don’t think I won’t factor that into my revenge.” I flip her onto her back, looming deliberately as I lay the scarf across her eyes. It’s not thick, but it’s long: I manage three full turns around her head before I tie it off at the side. “Can you see me ?”

“No.”

We’ll see about that. I flip her the bird: no reaction. Perfect. I run my finger along the edge of the blindfold, fascinated with her reaction. A simple touch to the face, a rough, callused drag along her cheek, and already she’s parting her lips, begging to be kissed. I oblige her. She’s wearing that mint lip gloss again—always reminds me of our first time. It was thrilling then, even better now, knowing it can lead somewhere .

I lean down and reach under the bed. Diana tilts her head, like she’s trying to figure out what I’m doing. I distract her with a nip to her shoulder, followed by a slow trail of kisses, all the way to her fingertips. I’ll never get tired of the way my kisses leave gooseflesh in their wake, the way her entire body responds to my touch .

One naughty foot tries to snake its way up my leg, twining around my calf to hold me in place. I’ll soon put a stop to that .

Diana goes still as I fit the soft cuff of the spreader bar around her ankle, then gasps as I buckle it in place. The second cuff has her clutching at the coverlet, long nails plucking the stitching, but she doesn’t say a word .

“Can you move ?”

The restraints jingle sharply as she tests them. “Not an inch .”

I crowd in close to whisper against her neck: “Good.” A full-body shudder courses through her, awakening an answering thrill in me. I’ve never been so hard in my life. There’s something about the way she looks, laid out helpless and expectant in my bed, that has the blood singing through me, pounding in my ears .

My gaze lights on the innocent-looking glass of water on the nightstand, standing in its pool of condensation. I almost feel bad, dipping my fingers, but a wolfish excitement takes over as the first icy droplet streams down her cheek like a tear. Diana yelps, then moans as I follow its path with my tongue, a long, lazy track along her chin, to her earlobe .

The next droplet pools in the hollow of her collarbone. This time, I dip my finger in it, draw a long, chilly line down her sternum, under her slip. She shivers and arches and seizes my tie, pulling me down for my warmth .

I flick more cold water in her face. “Ah-ah-ah... Do I need to tie these, too ?”

“Yes.”

One word—one thick, raspy word—and I’m lightheaded with lust. This wasn’t the plan. She’s supposed to be the one hovering on the verge, out of her mind with desperation. Can’t let her see how she’s affecting me. Not during my revenge! I take my time slipping off my tie, getting my cock under control. By the time her hands are bound above her head, I’m on top of the situation .

A half-melted ice cube trailing up her inner thigh gets her attention. She tries to clap her thighs together, to no avail. The chains rattle against the bar .

“Ssh... Stay still .”

Higher and higher I go. She’s begging, little senseless pleas and whimpers that only serve to spur me on. I push her slip up around her waist, exposing her to my mercy .

Her whole body bucks and squirms as I approach the apex of her thighs. This is more like it. I take my time, lingering along the V of her groin, the crest of her hipbone. The ice is melting fast. Freezing runnels cascade down her side. I lean in close, where the water’s gathered below her hip, and blow. The surface tension breaks, sending a web of frigid streams branching across her belly. One of them breaks away from the rest and finds the soft thatch of red hair between her legs. It keeps going, down, down, stopping just shy of her slit .

“Ah!”

“Too much ?”

She shakes her head .

I walk my chilly fingers down her torso, pausing to draw little designs in the water, a heart here, a flower there. Every touch rewards me with a twitch, a moan, a sharp intake of breath. I haven’t even touched her anywhere truly sensitive, and already she’s melting for me. Even restrained, her body follows the sensations, arching and twisting in a vain attempt to direct my lips and my fingers where she wants them .

I lay the last sliver of ice on the tip of my tongue, and lap at her nipple, circling hot and cold. If it weren’t for the leg restraints, I’d be getting a good kicking right about now. I can feel her jerking, knees trying to flex, thighs wanting to rub together. I could show mercy, touch her where she wants it, but I dawdle around her inner lips, thumb the hood of her clit, drawing back before she can get where she needs to go .

“You’re— you — “

“Mm?”

“Fucking tease ! ”

I laugh. Track my slick fingers down her thigh .

“So rude ....”

“You like me this way.” I hover over her again, thrusting one leg between hers so she can feel the roughness of my pants against her skin. She shies away, but I surround her, leaving no space to flee. My jacket hangs down to brush her flanks; my collar scrapes her chin. I caress her with deliberate clumsiness, making sure my sleeves graze her torso. She bites her lip when the cold point of my cufflink catches on her ribs .

“You—you wore that on purpose !”

“Now, how could I have done that?” I finger the pearls at her throat. “These, though—Why’d you put these back on?” I feel for the clasp. It pops open easily, and I pull the strand free. The beads are smooth, and warm from her skin. They glide effortlessly over her lips, down her neck, between her breasts. Every breath she takes has them moving against her skin .

Feeling daring, I draw them further, watching them snake over her belly and stream between her thighs, following the leader between her slick pink lips. This time, I let them bump over her clit, one by one, so slow I can watch each one tug at the sensitive skin before pulling free .

Diana’s gone still and breathless, barely making a whimper as each pearl pulls a tremor from her body. Her hands twitch in their bindings; her toes curl and uncurl. When the last pearl gives way to the diamond clasp, she outright jumps at the sudden chill, chest heaving as she pants for breath .

I steady her with a hand on her hip, but she’s too far gone, hovering on the edge. I feel her shudder, over and over. One touch now—one tiny caress —

“Stop—stop teasing me !”

“Stop?” I pull my hand away, deliberately misunderstanding .

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it !”

“Oh? What did you mean?” I grin, even though she can’t see it .

“I meant ....”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me. Lick me. I don’t care—Just stop tormenting me—Give me ....”

I could draw it out a little more, make her writhe as she begs for my cock, but I want her to forgive me when this is over. She’s kind of the vengeful type herself, at least in bed. I’m not sure she’d outright spank me, but she has ways of keeping me in line with those clever hands, ways of turning me to putty in her grasp .

It’s the work of a moment to get my pants down and the condom on. The ankle cuffs fall open easily, with the buckles undone. The tie on her wrists I leave in place as I hoist her into my lap .

“Ready?”

“Just fuck me !”

I guide my cock inside her, feeling her tighten around me, over and over again. It’s surprisingly intense, and I realize she’s coming already, stiffening in my arms as the waves crash over her. She doesn’t stop moving, even when she’s done, riding me hard, thighs tensing against mine. Her arms fall on my shoulders, bound hands dangling at the nape of my neck. I thrust into her with abandon, chasing my own pleasure even as she chases hers .

I’m not sure how many times she reaches her climax before mine hits: I’m too lost to keep track. I’ve heard of seeing stars, but there are whole galaxies dancing behind my eyes as I give myself over to the moment .

I keep her in my lap as I unfurl the blindfold, not wanting to give up that closeness just yet. She blinks in the low light, and breathes a soft sigh. She doesn’t seem eager to go anywhere, either, leaning in for a slow, drowsy kiss as she wriggles her hands free of my tie. Her fingers find their way into my hair, working out tangles I didn’t know were there .

“So. You feel properly avenged ?”

I nod. “Till you do something even naughtier .”

“Sounds like a dare .”

“Mm-hm.” I roll us onto our sides, holding her nice and tight. “Don’t let me fall asleep like this .”

“Me neither—I need a whole other bath after that.” She nudges me. “And you’re cleaning my pearls. Soft cloth. Mild soap. Lukewarm water. And don’t dip them in all the way .”

“Yes, ma’am .”

I hold onto the afterglow till it starts to feel more sticky than dreamy. Diana joins me in the shower, and we take our time with the soap, washing each other cleaner than we strictly need to be. If we can string together enough of these kinds of moments, maybe the rest won’t matter so much. Here in the shower, with the steam rising around us, we could be in our own little world, safe from the investors and the press and the looming threat of disgrace .

But when we finally stumble back to bed, I lie awake for a long time. The night might be a safe haven, but morning always comes .