The Saint
He opened the door and led her inside a kind of sitting room.
“Oh, f**k.”
Everywhere Eleanor looked, she saw fire. Tall taper candles, all alight, covered every horizontal surface—tabletops, window ledges—and a few dozen sat on the floor in ornate silver holders. So dazzled by the scene before her, Eleanor hardly noticed the four other people in the room until Kingsley introduced her to them.
First was Blaise, the birthday girl, who wore nothing but a white button-down shirt. Next was Baptiste, dark skinned and handsome, who had some kind of sexy accent—not quite French, but close. Then another man—Sven or something. She’d stopped listening because Blaise now stood naked in the center of the room.
“Shall we?” Kingsley picked up a candle as Blaise lay on the floor on a large wooden board. Everyone in the room followed suit. Soon everyone, herself included, held a candle in their hands.
Blaise raised her arms over her head and smiled up at Kingsley.
“Happy birthday, ma fille.” He knelt at her side, bent to kiss her and as soon as the kiss broke, he poured candle wax onto the center of her chest.
Blaise winced in agony. Eleanor winced in sympathy. Everyone else laughed and applauded. Music played. Wine flowed. And one by one every guest took their turn dripping candle wax onto Blaise’s naked body. Everyone but her.
“Come, chérie,” Kingsley said, coaxing her forward.
“I don’t even know her,” Eleanor said in a whisper.
“This will make an excellent introduction.” Kingsley inclined his head toward Blaise on the floor. He was daring her to burn Blaise, and she knew it. Kingsley stood on the opposite side of Blaise, smiling at her. “You know you want to.”
“Peer pressure? Really, King?”
“We’re all doing it,” he said, his tone teasing, his eyes serious. And then she knew it wasn’t a dare, it was a test. And since she wanted to pass this test, she burned her.
Blaise gasped as hot wax landed on her inner thighs.
Eleanor brought the candle to her mouth and blew the flame out.
Kingsley gave her a wink and she sat off to the side to watch the show. Soon Blaise’s wrists were locked with hardening wax to the wooden board and then her ankles. Once her entire body was coated in the wax, Baptiste blew out his candle and inserted it inside Blaise’s vagina. Eleanor watched, breathless, as he f**ked her with it. Blaise closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure. Kingsley leaned over her body and kissed Baptiste long and deep.
Eleanor stood up and nearly ran to the balcony door. She threw it open, stepped onto the balcony and shut the door behind her.
She stood there in the winter cold, swallowing lungfuls of ice.
“You left too soon,” Kingsley said. She’d been panting so hard she hadn’t even heard the door open.
“I needed some air.”
“Too much?” he asked. “Were you scared of what was happening in there?”
“Not scared.”
“Aroused?”
She laughed.
“A little.”
“Jealous?” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. As cold as it was, she didn’t fight the embrace.
“It did look kind of fun.”
“I forget how young you are. We’ll play this game again when you’re ready.”
“You kissed a man.”
Kingsley gave her a quizzical look.
“I did. I like kissing women and men. And f**king them. Shocked?”
“I wasn’t expecting that.”
“For your sake, I will give you this advice—start expecting the unexpected. There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy, chérie.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Come. I’ll take you home.”
He kissed her on both cheeks again before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and escorting her into the house.
She got her coat and Kingsley walked her to the Rolls-Royce waiting out front.
“I think I’ll go home the usual way,” she said, staring at the car. “If that’s okay with you.”
Kingsley raised his chin and studied her.
“Worried you’ll fail the Rolls-Royce test this time?” he asked. She blushed as he put the fear she hadn’t even admitted to herself into words.
“I like walking,” she said.
“Walk away, then.” Kingsley chucked her under the chin in an infuriatingly fatherly manner. “For your sake and mine.”
He gave her the quickest kiss on the lips and she growled. Walk away, she told herself. Keep walking away and don’t look back.
After a few blocks, her head cleared, her heart settled. Being around Kingsley and his friends was dangerous to her sanity and her virginity.
Eleanor neared the subway entrance but paused when she heard someone call out her name.
She turned around and saw a man standing on the sidewalk ten feet behind her. She couldn’t process the sight of him, the reality of him, the existence of him.
But there he was. And for the first time that night she felt true fear.
24
Eleanor
“DAD?”
“Have you missed me, baby?” Her father stood with his hands in the pockets of his long coat, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.
“No,” she said. “What the hell are you doing out of jail?”
“Shock probation.”
“Right,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She considered running for it. The subway entrance waited twenty feet behind her. “Good for you, then. I gotta go.”