Elliot Mabeuse (13 page)

"Conner, I don’t know! This sounds crazy."

"Emma, think about it! You in the back of a van with a desperate maniac, running his hands all over you, all tied up and helpless, making you do all sorts of nasty and perverse things, slowly undressing you …"

"Oh God, Conner! You're insane!"

"Tell me you've never had fantasies like that yourself!"

"But I never really thought of doing them."

"Well you should. Don’t you see what we've got here, Emma? A chance to make all these fantasies come true. How many people ever get that?"

She made a low sound of disapproval into the phone. "You're really serious?"

"Yes."

"You really want me to see your place?"

I laughed. "Yes."

"What do I have to bring? What are we going to do?"

"Do you really have to ask me that? You don't have to bring anything. Believe me."

I could hear her smile.

"Oh, all right."

"Good. Tomorrow then."

I hung up and started trying to clean up the place. Luckily I don't own enough stuff to make a mess anymore, but still—a bachelor in the city…

Two hours later the mood had changed. She called me back, sounding thoughtful. "Conner? Conner, it's Emma."

My stomach knotted. "Yes?"

"Conner, I just want to make sure of something, because of what we said the other night. Because of what I said."

I braced myself. "Yes?"

"I said something I shouldn't have, the other night when we were making love.

You know what it was. I shouldn't have said it. It was something you said we shouldn't talk about. You know what I mean?"

"Yes. I know." What she was talking about was when we said we'd loved each other in the midst of making love. It was true enough at the time. Now, who knew?

"Don’t worry about it. Passions were running high. I understand."

"I mean, I know this sounds stupid but I don't want anyone to get hurt. I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I'm not really engaged, I mean, not really, and I don't know if I'll ever get a chance to do this again in my life. You said it was just about sex anyway, and it is, right?"

It was a good thing she couldn't see the look on my face as I answered, the gall I was biting back. "Yeah. That's what I said."

"So as long as we keep it on those terms, it's just like a game, right?"

I turned to the window and there was the moon again, seeing everything, judging everything, suffering so. "Right. It's just like a game."

"Good. Good. I just wanted to make sure we understand each other, because I really don't want anyone to get hurt."

"No. No one's going to get hurt."

I pushed it all back down inside. We still had the summer and part of the fall and there was no telling what might happen by then. Certainly by then the novelty would have worn off and we'd be sick of each other—probably way before then—and until then he really didn't have to exist for me. I could fix it so he wouldn’t exist for me. I could probably fix it so he wouldn't exist for her too, if she'd just give me the chance.

In any case, there were more important matters at hand. There was tomorrow night for one thing.

"So we're on for tomorrow after class?" I asked her.

I heard her smile. "Do you want me?"

* * * *

It was fascinating to see how Emma had changed in the few short weeks we'd been together. She knew how I wanted her and she suspected I wanted her as a sub, which was partially true but not entirely, because the truth was, I never wanted her as a slave. I never wanted her to grovel or be less than me. In fact, as the incident in the motel parking lot had shown, my urge to dominate her wasn't without its masochistic side, a certain sick liking for the feel of a stiletto heel sliding against my dick, and she'd always had a stubborn streak of arrogance and pride from the first day met her. She used it defensively, as a kind of barbed-wire fence. But she also had a way of crossing her legs just so, of casually stretching so her shirt pulled across her breasts with just the right amount of tension, of turning her head so as to display the sculpted column of her neck to the best advantage, that showed she could use it offensively as well.

She played with her beauty like it was an edged weapon, and she wielded her submission the same way—using it to cut both ways, offensive as well as defensive. I was aware of that and that's why I'd decided on this little kidnapping game. It would give her a chance to participate, and I wanted to see how far she'd go, whether she'd just be entirely passive or whether she'd really get involved. I wanted to see how much—if anything—she had invested in this relationship, or whether I was the only crazy one.

I was worried at first. Her second phone call with her caveat about her boyfriend stuck in my mind like a drowning fly at a picnic and wouldn't go away—it had the potential to contaminate the whole thing. Late afternoon turned gray and blowy with a strong wind sending grit and papers swirling in the parking lot, threatening rain and worse. There were thunderstorm warnings on the radio, and it looked like that long- expected front was coming through, finally bringing relief from the heat that had settled upon the upper Midwest like a pot lid for the last ten days. It didn’t bode well for a night of outdoor abduction games.

Emma avoided my eyes as she took her seat, wearing one of the most unattractive pantsuits I've ever seen on this side of a fast food counter, so unflattering I half-expected her to tell me that not only was our little game off for tonight, but she'd thought things over further after her phone call and decided to end the whole sordid affair.

But Emma was too good an actress and I soon saw what she was up to was playing the part of the little night school ingénue for our upcoming drama, even down to simulating a job at an eat-it-&-beat-it joint. All evening she did a wonderful job of looking normal and wholesome—even helping the hateful Mrs. Gonzales write down the reading assignment and bustling about like some Future Teacher of America candidate.

I caught her glancing up at me to see if I was enjoying the act and I couldn't repress a smile. She was good. As the class emptied out she picked up her books and approached the lectern.

"You have something for me, Professor Devlin? A parking permit?"

Even in that pantsuit, her barely repressed excitement made her radiant and she got to me. I felt something stir inside, like a sleeping beast just starting to wake, and I thought, this must be what a hound feels like when he first catches scent of a fox. She moved closer and I felt the last extraneous minutiae of the class fall away as the beast stretched and took notice, felt my body begin to tighten in anticipation, prepare itself for its one true function, the animal reason for which it was placed on earth.

I gave her the pass and glanced around but no one was watching. They were all shuffling out.

"You'll wait for me, won't you?" she asked. "I have to change first into my special abduction clothes but it won't take a minute. Did you like my outfit?" She showed me a quick curtsy.

"It's awful," I said.

She smiled. "We wear these for inventory. Can you believe it?" She lowered her voice and asked, "You'll be between C and G buildings, right? Where they have the overflow parking? What kind of van is it?"

"A Dodge. Dark green, no windows on the sides. You brought special clothes?"

She slipped the keycard into her pocket. "Of course I did. This was always a fantasy of mine too and I always pictured how it should be. But I should warn you—I'm not much of a fighter. You're not going to get all violent?"

"No. Not like that, no." I smiled. "I can't guarantee what I'll be like when I get you inside, though."

She gave me a knowing smile. "I'm not worried about that. I just want you to do it."

She turned to go but I called her back. "Emma? I want to give you a safe word.

You know what a safe word is?"

"Really?" She looked like she was going to say something but then changed her mind. Her eyes were glowing. "What is it?"

"Your name. Emma Fiore. Just say your real name. And if you can't talk, tap, bang, hit me times, over and over."

"You think I might have to use it?"

"No."

She grinned at me. "Then maybe you're not doing your job, Conner."

* * * *

It was pitch black and blowing hard by the time I was settled in the van, facing the new faculty parking garage and dying for a cigarette. The big cottonwoods were bowing and swaying in the wind and there was no doubt a big storm was coming. The radio crackled with bursts of static and there was vicious lightning in the southwest. It made me nervous.

From where I was parked, I could hardly miss her yellow convertible as it pulled into the ramp. Emma's bare arm emerged and fed the card into the slot and the gate rose up obediently as she drove inside. Even though it was all pretend, my hands were sweating.

There was a lot of construction going on over the summer, especially at this end of the campus, and the new faculty garage was part of it, all clean fresh concrete and bright fluorescent lights. Down where I was, they'd already started tearing up the old parking lot and the lights had been disconnected, leaving it very dark and deep in shadow. Looking at the new garage from the darkness was like staring at some old Donkey Kong game with its maze of ramps and levels.

I saw her car come into sight and disappear as it climbed upwards, wending its way through the empty structure. Why would she be going so high except for the dramatic effect? I'd been waiting there for almost half an hour already and I was eager to get started before it began to rain, and eager to get a glimpse of her.

At last I lost sight of the car and knew she must be parking, and when I saw her again she was on foot. The wall of the garage blocked her from the shoulders down, but she seemed to be wearing a white shirt or light jacket, and the way she walked told me she must be wearing heels. That was all it took to make my stomach tighten, knowing she'd dressed for me, she'd chosen her clothes knowing I'd be taking them off her. That always did it for me. I sat up behind the wheel and looked around. There was no one.

She got into the elevator and I lost sight of her.

And at that moment it started to drizzle, the first drops spattering against the windshield.

Damn! It wasn't bad yet, but if it got worse I'd have to forget the abduction and just drive over and pick her up. I didn't want her getting drenched.

In a few moments she came walking out of the doorway at the foot of the structure, stepping out onto the sidewalk where the lights bleached the brick all bright white and yellow and pale green like some artificial electric beach. I could see her now—long legs and a short, pale blue sundress kind of thing with a white shirt over it, a white canvas bag over her shoulder, looking as fresh and clean as dew on summer grass. Christ, the girl knew her business, what buttons to push. Shadows spilled at her feet and raked over her as she stepped brightly off the sidewalk and entered the

darkness of the lot, back erect, tits out, long legs eating up the distance with smooth, unhurried grace. As if it had been waiting for her, the rain began to fall.

She looked stunningly sexual. Not sexy, not cheap, but sexual—a woman in the full pride of her beauty alone in the dark on a hot summer's night, and to cap it off, the whispering rain and lightning sizzling in the background. The wind had stopped and the rain stopped for a moment as it does just before a downpour as if the clouds are taking a breath. In this perfect stillness, the crickets took this last opportunity to sound their plaintive calls and Emma walked into the darkness, all lips and tits and ass and long, sinuous leg, walking right out of the world of living men and into the world of my perfect fantasy. She was mythic, she was a dream, and I was absolutely stunned with desire for her.

I was parked on the east side of the lot, hidden in with a few other cars, and if she knew where I was she deliberately chose not to look because she walked right past the van maybe some twenty yards distant and kept on going, head held high, bag on her shoulder. I saw the tight lines of her thighs beneath the fabric of her dress, the proud thrust of her ass, the gentle bounce of her breasts, the secret suggestion of everything she promised. She looked like a ghost—like one of those ghostly images of phosphorescent sea creatures you see on television documentaries who appear at night, pose for an instant and then sink back down into the ocean's subconscious again.

The rain began to patter down as I watched her, and suddenly the game we were playing began to take on a life of its own. I felt the big empty space of the van behind me, the thin, cheap mattress on the floor, the ropes and tape and scarves all laid out. I saw Emma's tight, lush body glowing in the dark, felt the aloneness and isolation of the

night, and realized I'd perhaps set things up too well. This was more than I'd bargained for. This was more than I'd expected. The beast she'd been flirting with before had now entirely awakened and had taken over. I suddenly wasn't in my right mind. The hairs rose on the back of my neck.

Mixed up in the lusting beast I'd suddenly become was a good portion of the green-eyed monster—David was involved, her status as David's woman—somehow I had the idea she wouldn't be out here in the dark like this if she were really David's woman. If she were really David's woman, she'd be back with David in David's cave, and the fact that she wasn't made her fair game. No. More than that. In my sudden, lust-drenched and desire-wracked mind, her being out here was like a sign she was trying to escape. Somehow I decided Emma's agreeing to this game of abduction was a sign that she wanted to be with me.