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Authors: Eden Bradley

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica

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She let her head fall back against the dark green tiles as the shower stall filled with steam. And she let her mind wander, remembering once more what she'd seen tonight. Of course, the first image that came to mind was Shaye. His bare torso shadowed in the nightclub lights that defined and illuminated every ridge and plane of muscle. His flashing white teeth. His lips on her hand.
She shivered.
That had been one of the most erotic moments of her life.
Her body went warm and loose all over just thinking about it. And
when she pictured the way Shaye had looked when he was working
that girl with the paddle, the muscles of his arms and back rippling,
the tattooed armbands gripping his flexing biceps, her sex pooled with
molten heat. No, if she were being truthful, what really did it for her
was imagining that
she
was the one he was doing it to. That it was her
stripped nearly naked and on display for all those people. That it was her flesh being smacked with the paddle. By
him.
She let out a groan and her hand wandered down her body, sliding over her breasts, over the hard peaks of her nipples, finally coming to rest between her thighs. There she rubbed her fingers teasingly over the lips of her sex, deliberately avoiding her tender, aching clit. And in her mind, it was Shaye's hand there, sliding over her mound, while the hot needles of water pelted her skin. She turned her body into the spray, so the wet heat fell on her breasts, slipped down her body, just as his hands would.
Shaye.
Her fantasy became more elaborate as she used her fingers to part her swollen pussy lips, to explore the waiting, expectant heat between them. In her mind, she was with Shaye at the Ring, with the flashing lights, the music pouring through the place, making her body vibrate with the beat. All around was the crowd, wild with anticipation. He led her to one of those long chains hanging from the ceiling, stretched her arms high above her head, cuffed her wrists firmly, then stripped her clothes from her until she was naked before the crowd. Before him.
She let her fingers brush her clit. Pleasure hummed through her body.
He would touch her there, would use his hands on her, running them over her bare skin, touching her breasts.
With her other hand she cupped one breast, slid the palm up over her nipple, squeezed gently, then harder. He wouldn't be gentle, would he? He would hold her breasts, squeeze and knead them. Pinch her nipples.
Yes.
She pinched, hard, and cried out at the hot streak of pleasure that shot straight to her sex. She spread her legs apart and pushed two fingers inside.
She'd never been so wet, so stricken with desire. She needed to come so badly it was almost painful.
She let her body rest against the tiles behind her, the cold surface a jarringly erotic contrast to the heat of the water, the heat of her fingers still working her sex. She saw him in her mind. He was behind her as she stood, her arms suspended over her head. Helpless. And he was shirtless, as he'd been tonight, pressing his muscular body up against her back, reaching around and moving his hand between her thighs, massaging her clit.
Yes!
She trembled on the verge of orgasm, tugged and pulled at her clit, trying to remember the scent of him while she moved her fingers inside herself, pumping. Her pussy was on fire, sensations thrumming through her body, while her mind whirled with flashes of Shaye, of the Ring, of the evil little whips she'd seen there. It all became a blur of image and sensation as the first wave of her climax washed over her. Her hand rubbed hard at her clit, driving her orgasm on. Her sex clenched and spasmed around the fingers of her other hand, still moving inside her. And still she came, wave after wave crashing over her in a powerful tide. Finally she was left shaken and weak, leaning into the wall of the shower. Steam rose all around her in ghostly wisps. Her skin was burning hot from the water, from the fierce climax that had just ripped through her body.
And still, she couldn't get his face out of her mind.

Shaye.

She stood beneath the pounding spray of water for a long while, trying to catch her breath. What was it about him? What was it that had her fantasizing about being naked on display in public, about being hit with a paddle? She'd never had these thoughts before. And now it was all she could think about.
Her body was thrumming with need again already. She thought
immediately of the vibrator she kept in her nightstand drawer. Yes, it
would give her a fierce orgasm; it always did. But never had it delivered anything like the climax she'd just experienced, using only her hands and a vivid imagination.
Shaye.
What was it about this man?
She turned the water off and stepped from the shower, still trembling. She dried herself with a thick white towel, her skin sensitized, needy. Her nipples went hard as she brushed the soft terry cloth over her chest.
Yes, she needed the vibrator, and
now.
She had a feeling it was about to become her new best friend. And if she couldn't find a way to satisfy her need, to get Shaye out of her lust-addled head, she might never leave her apartment again.
She dropped the towel and crossed the hall back to her bedroom. Naked, she climbed into her antique four-poster bed, pulled the vibrator from its drawer and switched it on, lay back, spread her legs. Closing her eyes, she thought of
him
while the vibrator buzzed and the San Francisco fog swept past her windows. And later, after she'd used the vibrator yet again, while her body lay, lambent and humming, and she drifted toward sleep, his face still filled her mind.
Her last thought, before her eyes fluttered closed, was that she would never see him again.
Or would she?

TWO

She dreamed of a dark, womblike place where water
fell in warm cascades all around her, slick on her skin, like tiny fingers touching her, teasing her. And a commanding voice in her ear whispered, “Promise me.” She moved her legs apart to allow the teasing, sensual water to touch her there. It flowed in a silky stream between her thighs. And out of the darkness came a figure.
Shaye.
He was naked, she knew, even though she couldn't quite make out the details of his body in the dark. She waited for him, holding perfectly still. She knew it was what he wanted; for her to remain as still as possible, to await his command. To await his pleasure. Her sex pulsed with anticipation.
The phone rang.
She came out of sleep fast, so fast she was too confused to find her
cell phone right away. Following the insistent ring, she crawled out of bed, dug in the small purse she'd taken to the club with her the night before, flipped her phone open.
“Hello?”
“Are you still sleeping? God, it's almost ten.”
“Kimmie?” She found her robe on a chair and slipped it on.
“Yeah, who else? What happened to you last night?”
“Nothing. I just.. . you wandered off and I couldn't find you.” “I told you I was going to get a drink at the bar downstairs. Then I met this guy and we danced for a while. When I went back upstairs you were gone.”
“Sorry, I um . . .'”
“How much did you drink last night, Devin?”
“What? Nothing. I didn't drink. I just slept really hard, I guess. I had this dream . . . “ She searched for her fuzzy pink slippers, found them under the bed, slid her feet into them.
“You are really out of it. So, what did you think of the Ring?”
“It was . .. interesting.”
“Interesting? I couldn't have dragged you away to save your life.
You were totally fascinated.”
“Okay, so I was fascinated.”
“Don't be so defensive, Dev. I'm the one who took you there. I'm the last person to judge you for liking it.”
“I know. I just. .. I'm kind of having a hard time with how much I liked it. And him.” “Him? Him who?”
“There was this guy there. He was gorgeous. No, it was more than that. Didn't you see him?” “The guy with the goatee? Yeah, sure. They're all hot there; all the people who work in the Ring. They only hire beautiful people.” “He was different.” She paused. “I talked to him.” “Did you?”
“He gave me his card. Asked me to come back.”
“Are you going to?”
“No. I don't know. I don't think it's my thing, Kimmie. It's too much for me.” It felt like a lie. She knew it even as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Well, if you want me to go with you, let me know.”
“Kimmie? Have you ever . . . you know . . . been in the Ring?
Done those things?”
Her friend's voice turned somber. “I've never been in the Ring. I've thought about it. But I really don't like the idea of being in public like that. But privately? Yes, I've done a few things.” “Like what?”
“I've been tied up, been spanked a few times. Nothing like what goes on there. It's fun, but I don't take it all that seriously.” She paused. “It really got to you last night, didn't it?” “Yes, I guess it did. And he really did, this guy. Shaye. The whole experience has me imagining things I've never thought of before.” But was that the truth? She remembered suddenly the story-like fantasies she'd had as a little girl, games she played in her head while she was in the bath. The most common theme was that she'd been captured by pirates, bound in rope, naked and helpless, then brought to the captain's quarters. Helpless, yes. That had been the key to the whole thing, hadn't it?
But she'd never really imagined what happened once she was in the captain's quarters. Her young mind hadn't been able to comprehend anything more. But she certainly could now.
Shaye would make an excellent pirate.
Her body began to heat up again, her thighs to tremble. This was ridiculous. She had to pull herself together.
“Still there Dev?”
“What? Yes. I was just thinking about everything. About last night.
I don't think I'll go back. It just doesn't feel right.” But why, really, was she fighting it? Every cell in her body screamed for her to go to him. To Shaye. She was lying to Kimmie. Lying to herself.
“It's up to you. Look, I'd better get back to work. I'll talk to you later, okay?” “Yes. Sure.”
She snapped her cell phone shut and sat on the end of her bed. Her body was humming to life again, hot and needy, her sex drive working at warp speed. She didn't like the loss of control over her own body, her own thoughts. Yet at the same time, something in the back of her mind whispered for her to just let go for once.
Letting go was not her forte. She was someone who ran a perfectly ordered life, with everything in its place. A life in stark contrast to the one she had growing up. A life of chaos until she was old enough to take on all of the responsibilities that should have been her mother's. A life that had created in her a driving need to maintain control, to fight against the chaos.
It was one of the reasons she loved her work as a web designer; she had total control over what happened on the page. She loved the clearly defined language of the computer, the software she used to create her designs. She knew if she clicked on something, wrote the correct sequence of code, she could control the outcome every time. She knew what to expect. Everything nice and neat. This obsession was messy. Complicated. And giving in to it would mean a very definite loss of control. She wasn't about to hand control over to anybody. Not even the beautiful and mysterious Shaye.
Her body surged with lust just letting his name roll through her mind. Her sex clenched in needy anticipation.
Damn it.
How was she going to force herself to stay away from him? She hated that she didn't have a concrete answer, couldn't assure herself of the outcome.
Mysterious, yes. And frightening. And so incredibly tempting she could barely stand it. Her mind whirled with the possibilities. She'd just met the man. Once. Why was it she couldn't stop thinking about him? About the lovely, wicked things he wanted to do to her? But how could she ever let him? This was crazy. She'd never been more confused in her life.
Shaye Vincent, in their one brief meeting, had knocked her whole world off its axis. And right now she wasn't sure how she'd ever regain her balance.
She usually took Saturdays off, but Devin had turned
to work as a desperate means of escape from the images battering at her. Still, her mind kept wandering from her computer screen. She'd been sitting there for more than two hours, yet all she could see was his face, those dark hazel eyes, that sexy, crooked grin, and the glossy sheen of sweat over die ripple of muscles . . .
Devin sighed. She was never going to get any work done this way. She closed her graphics program, then shut her computer down. She didn't know what to do with herself. Her sex was throbbing with heat and she felt too restless to stay in her apartment all day, but she wasn't in the mood to call Kimmie or any of her other friends. She knew she wasn't in a normal frame of mind and didn't want to have to explain herself to anyone.
Throwing a heavy sweater on over her T-shirt and jeans, she grabbed her purse and headed downstairs and out into the cool afternoon.
She took off in the direction of Chestnut Street, a few blocks
away. She'd find a cup of coffee and walk with it, maybe head down
to the Palace of Fine Arts at the end of the street. A good, long walk
should cool off her lusty thoughts. And she'd always found the serene, swan-filled pond and the beautiful neo-Roman structure to be a peaceful place. She often went there to think, to work out design issues in her head while strolling around the park-like setting or feeding bread crumbs to the ducks and swans.
She found her favorite coffee spot and ordered a latte to go. The street was already crowded with traffic, locals and tourists thronging the sidewalks. She paused to glance into the shop windows, letting the crowds flow around her. The Marina district was famous for its colorful boutiques and cafes, but she found she couldn't concentrate on the clothes and books in the windows. His face was still foremost in her mind. His gorgeous face, along with other fleeting thoughts she tried to push away. Wondering what his hands would feel like on her skin, his lips pressed against hers, what it might be like to let him spank her with that black paddle . . .
She took a long swig of the hot coffee, trying once more to chase the images away, but it was no use. She realized there was nothing she could do to get him out of her head, except give it some time. Or else see him again.
Dangerous.
Yes. He was dangerous. He was dangerous to her sanity already. How much worse would it be if she saw him? But now that it had occurred to her, she could barely think of anything else. All she had to do was show up at the club next Friday night. She could go by herself, just watch him through the crowd. See if he was still as intriguing in person as he was in her imagination. Why not? She didn't even have to talk to him, let him know she was there, if she didn't want to.
She'd want to. WTH was she kidding? She was going, dangerous or
not. For once in her life, she'd do something totally illogical. Something
on a whim, without thinking it through. It was about time she
challenged herself. She ignored the underlying suspicion nagging at her brain, the one that told her going to see Shaye could have long-term consequences. But what the hell, he was only a man, like any other. Wasn't he?

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