Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (8 page)

Very good, Christy.
She just made us a de facto couple. The psychology of it was brilliant and I shot her a smile. She looked back at me and for a moment there was pure craftiness in her eyes. Then, she slipped up into Jason’s lap and they started snuggling.

“Hey, guys, we’re going to head over to the Window.” He paused and looked from me to Leda. “Do you want to come?”

Do I want to? Yes…but only if I can tie her up. Not yet.
“Not tonight, man. Have fun.”

We said our goodbyes and a smile lingered on Leda’s face after they left. Seeing the tension release from around her eyes was good, gave me a little peace.

“What else do you want to do tonight, little girl?”

“I don’t know, I could dance more. I could sit here longer. What is the Window—is it another club? Why don’t we go with them?”

“Ah, the Window, actually the Blackened Window. That is…Jason’s club. It’ll be just really starting to pick up now, but, honey, it’s just more than I think you’re ready for. In time we can go there, if you want.”
When you know what the fuck you’re getting into.

“I’m down. I can handle whatever.”

Cute.
“First, I doubt you’d be as chill as you think to see someone tied and whipped in front of you or whatever other craziness is happening there tonight, but secondly, and more importantly, I know you can’t handle what I would want to do to you once we got there.” Her eyes got wide and I imagined her looking up from kneeling in front of me.
She shivered like she knew what I wanted to do to her. I rubbed her arms, knowing she wasn’t actually cold, but taking the excuse to touch her more. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay, Boss.”

So cute.
I pinched her lower lip between my thumb and the knuckle of my forefinger, feeling my own lust making my breath tight, as she accepted the little bit of pain.

It was late, but I didn’t want to take her home. We could sleep tomorrow. I decided to take her to the Cat’s Meow. Something sweet, a little treat.

Chapter Eight

Leda

She Wants Revenge,
Tear You Apart

As we left The Nest, he guided me with his hand on the small of my back. The proximity of his hand to my ass and pussy was just about all I could think about, the tight anticipation made me a little breathless. I just wanted him to touch me more, just slide his fingers down, under the short hem of my dress and nestle into my sugar.

We got in the car, and it seemed too quiet after the club. It was nearly two in the morning, the latest I had been up in a while. I was starting to feel it, but I didn’t want the night to be over. He looked deep in thought as we drove to another part of town, parking in a garage and walking down the street to a restaurant tucked in between two upscale boutiques. The Cat’s Meow was a small diner that was open twenty-four hours a day and, as Xander explained, they had great coffee and desserts. We ordered, coffee and pecan pie for him, decaf and a piece of flourless chocolate torte for me.

“So, tell me what I have to expect in the next year,” I said once our orders were in. He gave me a vaguely confused look for a moment, so I quickly added, “At school! What is the first year of medical school like? During orientation my advisor said something about it being traumatic.”

“Well, it’s intense. There’s more to learn than you can understand on this side of it. There are times when all you can do is deal with what you need to learn for the next test, rather than keeping up with everything the whole time. One of my classmates called it pissing on the fire in front of you and moving on.”

My heart sank a little. I already felt outclassed and overwhelmed all the time.

He continued, “I know that image is unpleasant, but it’s kind of accurate. But you can’t get overwhelmed by that—people graduate medical school every year all over the world. It’s doable. It’s amazing what people can do when they
have
to do it. Look at it like boot camp. You put your head down and get through it, no matter what, and at the end, you can do almost anything!”

“It feels insurmountable, impossible.” I took a deep breath and looked up at him, feeling very small in a very big world.

“You’re going to do just fine, little girl. Don’t let me scare you.” His gaze darkened a bit, “Well, not too much anyway. You’ll do things you never thought you could or would by the end of this year.”

He was simultaneously scaring me, reassuring me and giving me a look like he was thinking of a few things he’d like to get me to do.

“But that brings up a good point, something I should tell you.” But he just paused.

“Okay? You can’t say something like that and stop.”

“I’m just working out how to say it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I like you. I know we just met, but…I…I like you and I’d like to date you, but I am…demanding when I’m dating someone. I want you to think about that. I want you to think about what you can handle with school, because I won’t let you fail at school because of me.” I got all gooey inside until his voice and face hardened just a bit and he added, “But I won’t tolerate not getting what I want out of you if you’re mine.”

“Uhhmm, I’m not sure what to say to that. Clearly, I like you as well, but I don’t know how to respond to that.” It was uncomfortable, awkward to be discussing the relationship that we didn’t even have yet. I squirmed a little in my seat, hyperaware of the intensity of his gaze.

“I know, little girl,” he said sadly. “It isn’t really fair for me to take you any further down this road with me without having this conversation though. I just want you to think about it for a bit.”

My emotions were all over the place. I was unsettled, feeling like it could be over before it started and who knows what ‘it’ would have been. And that felt dumb and I got a little angry.

“Wait a minute. This is bullshit, Xander. I don’t have any actual information. I am only two weeks into medical school. I don’t know what it will be like or what I can handle with it. And what do you even mean about how you are? How am I supposed to know what I should or shouldn’t do?”

His tone was conciliatory when he answered, “I know, little girl. Maybe we just take it really slow with each other and you tell me right away if you are getting overwhelmed, if it is too much. Like a safeword.”

A what?
But I did calm a little. “What’s a safeword?”

He groaned with a smile on his face that he tried really hard to hide. “Leda, you don’t know what that means?” He looked at me incredulously.

“No, what the fuck?”

“Okay, baby girl—yeah, you might not even know enough to be a ‘little’ anymore,” he said with a smile. “So a safeword is something that people use when they are involved in S&M or really anything sexual that pushes their boundaries.”

“Why don’t they just say
stop
?” I was confused. “And, pardon me, but did you just say S&M?”

He had the look of someone being diplomatic. “Some people get off on the word stop or no being ignored or pushed past.”

“That’s rape.” I was getting freaked out.
Is this guy telling me he doesn’t believe in listening to the word ‘no’?

“No, that’s not what I mean. It’s just what some people get off on. It’s called consensual nonconsent.” He was speaking so nonchalantly, as if this was totally normal first date shit. “The key is to have a safeword so that everyone involved knows when the ‘stop’ is for real. It’s like what I was talking about with the Window—everyone has to be legal and consenting. That doesn’t mean that you won’t hear someone saying no. It’s hard to explain, but it is actually pretty simple—you just have to let yourself think past the college ‘No means no’ rhetoric. I’m not condoning rape or sexual assault or any kind of assault. Sometimes people like to pretend—all kinds of things really, and in any situation. It’s really important that everyone communicate openly and have a plan of how to stay safe together. Sometimes it isn’t even that. Sometimes it’s just overwhelming and you just need to be clear about where the limits are.” He trailed off, looking pained, as if I wasn’t understanding something that was really important.

“Is this something you’re into—this no doesn’t actually mean no stuff?” I was a little repulsed and a little intrigued at the same time. But I was hit with a fast rush of shame that it was something that could interest me. Of course, I knew girls in college that got date-raped. It’s not particularly uncommon. I did the ‘Take Back the Night’ marches. But it really didn’t sound like he was talking about that.

“I don’t ever want to do something with someone, or to someone, if they don’t want it. For a while now, my policy has been to check in if there’s any question in my mind, make sure that everything I’m doing is wanted. It’s really important that you understand that. I will not do something you don’t want, but I also want you to consider that you may not know everything you want yet, that there are experiences you haven’t even considered yet. Do you understand me, baby girl?” He brushed his fingers across my hand and his touch made me tingle deep inside.

My face flushed and my breath quickened. I nodded to him, wide eyed, not trusting my voice.

“Good girl, let’s go. It’s past your bedtime.” He stood up, extending his hand to me, and left some money on the table.

I felt in a cloud as we walked out. He guided me, his hand pausing on the back of my neck then stroking the length of my spine. As we walked to the car, he continued to stroke my back and the fog of my brain cleared a little to reveal one thought—I wanted him. Then it was all I could think about, leaning my body into him. I wanted him to overwhelm me, to give me a real reason to need a safeword.

We got to the car and he opened the door for me, helping me into my seat and leaning down so his face was level with mine while he buckled my seat belt. He was so close, I could smell his goodness and another wave of lust washed over me. I wanted to lick him. I felt myself take a deep breath and sigh. He looked at me and I think he knew. He had to know. How could he not know? It was overwhelming, so big inside me. He closed my door and my mind cleared a little.

When he got in the driver’s side, he turned the radio on and this perfect song was playing. The singer was voicing so many things that I was thinking and at one point, I’m sure that Xander chuckled. When the song ended, he changed the station to something a little mellower, some nineties emo music, The Cure or Depeche Mode. At a red light, he rested his hand around the back of my neck and gave the lightest pressure as the light turned green and he went back to driving.

We got to my apartment, and I stupidly realized that I hadn’t said anything since the restaurant. I’d been caught up in my own thoughts.

“Oh God, sorry I’ve been so quiet! I was just thinking about everything we talked about and I’m so tired all of a sudden. You’ve been quiet too. Everything okay?”

“I was just watching you. I’ll walk you to your door.” He got out and came around for me. I was thankful for it because I was suddenly exhausted. He helped me out and walked me to the door, with his hand on my back again.

“Do you want to come up for a drink?”
Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say when I’m actually saying I want to screw you?
I fumbled with the keys to open the door. He pulled the door open for me.

“I’ll walk you up, but then I’m going.”

Crushed!
We were up the stairs way too fast. I didn’t want the night to be over, but I was stifling a yawn.

“Are you sure you won’t come in?”

“Baby girl, it’s time for you to sleep. And I was serious about what I said. The first year of medical school is a lot by itself, let alone with a relationship, even if it’s only vanilla. And I’m not so simple as vanilla. I want you to really think about what you can handle.”

What the fuck does vanilla mean?

“Okay, well, I had a great time. It was…educational.” I pushed up to my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, whispering, “Thanks, Xander.”

He grabbed me around the waist, holding my body tight to his, one hand snaking up to the back of my neck, turning my head so he could kiss me. He pressed his lips against mine, softly at first, but with more pressure then just the slightest lick against my lips. I felt my body go slack against his, surrendering. I opened my lips and started to kiss him back, reaching up to drape my arms around his neck. I felt more than heard the low growl-groan in his chest as he opened his mouth and kissed me deeply, our tongues meeting and touching. His mouth was just right and he tasted sweet from his pie, but the bitter undertone of coffee was there too. Another low sound from his throat, but this one sounded more like regret and he pulled away from me.

“Goodnight, baby girl.” He turned and jogged down the stairs. I watched him, noticing he had a great ass that I hadn’t really seen before. At the bottom of the stairs, he turned around and looked back up to me, “Girl, go put yourself to bed. Now.” Even from my distance, I could see twitch in his jaw. I couldn’t tell if it was anger or amusement or something else altogether, but whatever it was, it gave me nervous butterflies in my stomach and a smile blossomed on my face.

“Okay, Boss. Goodnight.” I blew him a kiss and scurried inside, only catching the faintest glimpse of the smile quirking the corner of his mouth before I turned away.

Once inside my apartment, I couldn’t stop thinking of him and what he had said about what dating him is like.

Was he just trying to give me the brush-off, that thing guys do where they make it impossible to date them but won’t break up with you, preferring to push you till you do it and then act like it was all you—because he ‘didn’t want to hurt you’?
Guys are fucking idiots sometimes.

I didn’t think that was what Xander was doing. It didn’t fit with the rest of his actions. I ran the night back through my mind while I washed my face and got ready for bed. As I was splashing water on my face and neck, I thought about Christy and Jason and what Xander had told me about the Blackened Window. My skin felt hot and hypersensitive, and I pictured Christy tied to a wall with Jason’s fingers in her mouth again. As these thoughts and images started running through my mind, my text message alert chimed.