Compulsion (5 page)

He released my arms from my shirt and pulled me gently to my feet, holding me against his body as I swayed slightly. He pulled my skirt down, but instead of helping me to put my shirt back on, he unclipped my bra and let it fall to the floor. Then he took his t-shirt off and dropped it over my head. I was instantly enveloped in the smell of musky cologne and warm male skin.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” he said and picked me up, cradling me in his arms as if I weighed nothing. He was very strong. I turned my face into his bare shoulder, nuzzling his smooth skin, and let my eyes drift closed as he carried me all the way back to my house, through my open back door and to my bedroom. He was scarcely breathing any harder than normal. He put me down just outside my bathroom and gave me a little push through the door.

“Get in there, Jane, but just do the essentials. You can have a nice bath in the morning.”

I used the toilet, cleaned my teeth and took out my contact lenses before stumbling out to where he was waiting. The quilt was pulled down and he’d put a tall glass of water on the nightstand. He gestured me into bed and pulled the covers over me, tucking me in like a child and smoothing my hair back.

“Be next door at six thirty sharp tomorrow,” he reminded me as sleep rushed over me. I didn’t hear him leave.

Wednesday

The next day when I knocked on his door at six thirty I had my handbag slung over my right shoulder and a bundle of clothing clutched in my left arm. His t-shirt was not part of the bundle—he was never getting it back again. He answered in his usual outfit of t-shirt and jeans, all black today, and waved me into the lounge. We turned to inspect each other and it crossed my mind that we were already falling into little routines despite our very short acquaintance.

Black suited him. He looked so very golden-blond, like a fallen angel. Even his bare feet looked heavenly—clean and tanned, with beautifully groomed toenails. He was sumptuous.

He was giving me the once-over too. I was in another suit of invisibility armor. Today the skirt was navy-blue and the shirt was a subtle champagne-pink. Navy pumps completed the ensemble. It was too hot for pantyhose. My hair was up in a perky bun. I’d felt good that morning—physically sore but in high spirits, and not plagued by the doubts of the day before—so I’d headed off to work in an optimistic mood.

Of course, a day of being invisible again had brought me down a few notches, but it had still been a good day. I’d rushed home, anticipation thrumming up and down my spine. But after exchanging my glasses for contact lenses, I’d come to an abrupt halt in front of my wardrobe. I was supposed to bring my potential party outfits to Matt tonight. My heart sank. This was not going to go well. The dichotomy between my inner and outer selves caused havoc with my wardrobe, and it was rare for me to find an item of clothing that I really liked or was comfortable in.

He took the bundle of clothing from me and draped it over the couch.

“How are you feeling today, Jane?” he asked. The question was innocent enough but I knew what he was referring to.

“I’m quite sore and there’s still a little blood. Thank you for asking.”

He chuckled. “Good. I like knowing that I made a lasting impression on you! Come here and kiss me, Jane.”

I crossed over obediently and wrapped my arms around his neck, arching my body against him. He made me stretch up to touch my lips to his, but then he lifted me suddenly and gave me a hard, deep kiss. A branding, possessive kiss, his tongue inspecting its territory. His erection pressed against me through our clothes. My knees were weak when he set me down and all I could do was wonder what he was going to do to me today.

He sat down on the recliner, crossing his legs.

“Right, Jane. Let’s see those dresses.”

I rushed over to the pile obligingly and picked up the first outfit, a pantsuit. I held it out to him and began to explain. He held up his hand and I stopped abruptly.

Babbling. You were babbling.

“Model the clothes, Jane,” he said patiently. “I want to see them on you.”

My heart sank. Torture.

I’d rather just go naked.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”

“I’d rather go naked, damn it!” I exclaimed. “You can’t possibly understand, Matt. I have…problems…with clothes!”

He was grinning delightedly, deliberately misunderstanding me. I clicked my tongue at him, irritated.

“I prefer naked too, Jane, but you have to arrive at the party in something. I take it you think I’m not going to approve?”

I shrugged.

“All right, let’s see. Leave that pantsuit—it’s too hot for this time of year. Besides, my mother has one in that identical color. Much as I love her, I don’t want to be reminded of her every time I think about stripping you out of your clothes. Hold up the next one.”

I did so in silence. He had imparted some interesting snippets of information and I was thinking I really needed to find out more about him.

“Put that one on, I want to see it. You can change in the master bedroom if you want to.”

There was no point in arguing. I went through the arch that led from the lounge to the small hall and paused. His house was the same as mine. The main bedroom was to my left and directly across from me was a closed door, which I knew led to a second bedroom. I used mine as a study. I wondered what he used his for. I was tempted to take a peek but he’d quite distinctly said that I should use the master bedroom.

Snooping got you into a whole lot of trouble last time, remember.

I turned left and headed through the open door of the main bedroom, peering curiously around. It smelled faintly of his evocative masculine scent even though he’d only been living in the house for three days. I eyed the bed. It was king-sized and had a lovely wooden headboard and two posts at the foot end. His quilt and pillows were encased in gray covers with a subtle pinstripe pattern. I put my dress on the bed and ran my hand over the quilt. Thick, soft cotton. Quality.

How inviting.

I snatched my hand away and quickly stripped down to my underwear. It was flesh-colored but the lace was pretty, one of the few nice sets that I owned.

I dragged on the dress. It was my best attempt at the classic Little Black Dress, but I stared at myself disconsolately in the full-length mirror. It was all wrong. It ended just below my knees, a dowdy length, and the neckline was too high. It had little rows of lace along the bodice and dainty cap sleeves, which I’d once thought were charming and, although it was tailored, it somehow managed to be neither flattering nor revealing. Talk about bypassing sexy but falling totally short of classy! I looked like such a prude.

You are a prude. Or you were, until yesterday.

I examined my face in the mirror, nose to nose with my reflection. I was changing. Had already changed. Did I look different? Not drastically. I thought I had a bit of a glow, a sparkle in my eyes, but maybe that was just because I was wearing my contacts. There was certainly nothing that anybody else would notice.

I headed back to the lounge. Matt was still sprawled in the recliner. He studied me intently, his eyes moving slowly down my body and back up again, making me feel hot. He made a little circling motion with his hand and I obediently rotated a few times.

“What’s the last one?” he asked, indicating the final outfit on the couch.

That was a resounding ‘no comment’.

I picked it up and showed it to him. “It’s another dress, a sundress.”

“It’s pink.”

“Tropical hibiscus actually,” I corrected. He ignored me.

“Is that a bow?”

“Yes.”

“It’s huge. Where does it…er… Where is it located? When the dress is on?”

“Behind… Low-ish.”

“On your ass? Are you telling me that bow is on your ass?” He was laughing now.

“I bought it for a wedding,” I protested indignantly. “It was perfectly appropriate!”

He was howling with laughter now. I started to chuckle. “You’re being really mean, you know? You haven’t even seen it on!”

He jumped up, taking me by surprise, and wrapped his arms around me, his face close to mine. When he spoke his voice was intense and rough.

“Jane, I’m telling you now, if you ever wear a dress with a huge bow on your ass, I will assume that you are giving me your ass as a present. I will accept your gift and I will fuck your ass until you see stars. Now do you
want
to model that dress for me?”

Shock and desire slammed into me. I stared at him, the dress crushed between us as a nuclear meltdown started in my pussy. For a moment I couldn’t speak.

“Uhh, um… Maybe another time,” I whispered.

“I’ll hold you to that, Jane.” He crushed me to him for another moment then let me go and stalked back to the recliner.

Oh, well done. Like he needs encouragement!

“That still leaves us with a problem for Saturday night,” he mused. Then he hopped up again and headed to his bedroom, calling over his shoulder on the way.

“There’s only one solution, Jane. I’m taking you shopping. I’m just putting my shoes on.”

I frowned. This was unexpected.

“What, now? But I can’t just go shopping! I haven’t budgeted for a new evening dress.”

I was a midlevel PA. I did all right as long as I stuck to my budget every month, but I didn’t have money to splash around. A new evening dress was a major extravagance.

Matt reappeared, wearing some rugged-looking black boots under his jeans.

“I said
I’m
taking you shopping, Jane. Now come on, it’s getting late.”

He took my hand and pulled me to the door. I dug my heels in.

“Matt, no! I won’t let you buy me a dress. I can’t accept something like that from you. We need to talk about this!”

He swung back to me, and now he looked angry.

“Did you just say no to me, Jane?” he hissed.

He grasped my chin, hard fingers digging into the soft skin of my cheek and neck. My heart skipped a nervous beat. He was so mercurial, laughing one minute then becoming angry over the slightest thing. I backed away and he followed, his grip unrelenting, until my retreat was cut off by a cold, hard surface behind me. He crowded me against the wall, pushing his big body into mine to trap me in place. His erection was firm against my stomach.

“Let me explain this to you—again—Jane. Until we part after the party on Saturday night, this is mine.”

He groped roughly between my legs, through the black dress.

“And these are mine!” He squeezed my breasts and pinched at my nipples through the black fabric.

“And your sweet ass, bow or no bow. And your mouth.” He grasped my ass and half lifted me off my feet, pushing my legs apart with his thigh. He kissed me brutally, driving my head back against the wall and forcing his way into my mouth. His rough handling excited the hell out of me.

“It’s all mine and I’ll dress what’s mine in whatever I damn well like! Remember the deal. You will submit to me. No questions, no arguments.”

He kissed me again, less roughly, a lot more seductively. I sucked his tongue, swallowing his sweet saliva, grateful that he was propping me up because my knees were trembling and could not be trusted.

He pulled away reluctantly. “If we don’t go now I’m going to fuck you up against this wall, Jane. You won’t survive until Saturday.”

He had my dress rucked up, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks, pulling them apart enough so as to part my cunt lips too. The sensation of opening and waiting to be filled was powerfully erotic. He could do anything he wanted to me right now and I knew I would submit.

But right now he wanted to take me shopping and was clearly not going to take no for an answer.

He practically dragged me out the door to his Jeep, only pausing to punch in a code on a keypad next to the door. I didn’t have an alarm system at my house, but before I could ask him about it he was opening the passenger door and helping me into the seat. He closed the door after me and went round to the driver’s seat. Soon we were heading out, joining the evening traffic as we eased into the main road.

“I’m taking you to Majick,” he said.

I was surprised. Majick was very trendy. I had never been inside—the loud music and haughty, superthin sales girls intimidated me. Besides, the prices were way out of my league.

“Why Majick? It’s very pricey, you know? Surely we could do better somewhere a little more mainstream.”

He shook his head. “It’s bad enough that there isn’t time to have something made for you. I’m certainly not buying you a department store dress. Majick will be fine—it’s not too expensive. Besides, it has the best fitting rooms.”

Okaaaay.

I was silent for a while, watching him drive the Jeep, which he did with confidence and economy. I was getting turned on again watching his powerful, tattooed forearms and big hands on the wheel, thinking about what he’d done to me with those fingers.

I decided to ask him some questions to keep my mind off the permanent state of lust that he evoked in me. Besides he was driving, so he wouldn’t be able to distract me or intimidate me with his body.

“What work do you do, Matt?” It seemed a harmless enough way to begin but he hesitated long enough that I thought that he wasn’t going to reply.

“I have my own business with three friends. We’re in IT security.”

“Oh, so you’re a computer wiz then?”

He laughed. “Absolutely! I’m a nerd through and through!”

“Oh yes! I can tell that just by looking at you,” I joked back. “What’s your company called?”

“Apocalypse Information Solutions.”

“That’s pretty melodramatic!”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but what we do is pretty melodramatic too. We test the security on the IT systems of the biggest companies in the world. They hire us to try to hack them.”

“And do you?”

“There’s never yet been one that we couldn’t crack.” He sounded grimly satisfied. “We stop at nothing to get into their systems.”

“And when you crack them? What happens then?”

“That’s when they pay us a fortune to tell them how we did it. Then they try to figure out how to fix it.”

“You mean you don’t even fix the problem for them! How does that work? Why does that work?”

“The companies that hire us are huge, and are greatly dependent on the trust and goodwill of the people who invest with them and do business with them. By the time they get round to retaining our services, they believe themselves to be invincible. When we reveal that they’re not, often because of surprisingly simple or stupid things, confidentially becomes a huge issue. Our fees are so high because we are known for our discretion. And they don’t want us involved in the fix either. They don’t want any outside parties to know what they’ve done to solve the problem.”

“Like, what do you mean by a simple or stupid thing?” I was intrigued.

“Oh, say for example they spend millions of dollars on firewalls and other IT security, but they let anybody walk through the front door with a flash drive or SD card and access the system from inside.”

“It sounds exciting. Are you busy with any interesting jobs at the moment?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. That’s why I’m living in our estate for the moment.” He glanced at me sideways. “I’m only renting my house for three months.”

My heart stuttered. He would be leaving in three months. A wave of emotion swept over me, settling in my stomach in black puddle of nausea. This was not good.