(Note: This part deals with the lead up to a D/s relationship. Skip it if you are after steamy sex scenes:)
*
Clutching my latte in a death grip, I navigated the maze of wobbly tables and sunk into the chair opposite Jack. He didn't look happy. He was hunched over a half-eaten plate of pasta, frantically punching at his phone's keypad.
"Fuuuck," he hissed, hitting the table with a clenched fist.
I raised an eyebrow at him as I mopped up the coffee that now pooled around my purse.
"Sorry." He flashed me a rueful grin. "My God, this day is going completely to shit."
"Are you going to tell me what happened, at long last? I feel a little left out."
"But it's different with you. I actually care what you think of me."
I gave him a playful nudge.
"Come on! I challenge you to make me think less of you."
He groaned.
"Isabel..."
"Yes?" I fixed him with an expectant look.
He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, scanning the room. The noise level had increased; neighbouring tables were rapidly being claimed by other staff and students. His eyes returned to mine. They were a moody, faded blue. Seconds lengthened until I was uncomfortably aware of myself.
He sighed and finally broke eye contact.
"So what was this information you accidentally blurted?" I tried to take a nonchalant sip of coffee.
Another tortured groan.
"Come on, you'll feel better..."
"I doubt it," he laughed, "but here goes."
Jack motioned for me to move closer.
"I met up with my ex at this bar on Chalmers. I told you that?" He spoke in a low voice.
I nodded.
"We were with some of my friends. Things got...rowdy."
I smiled.
"Well, my lady friend happened to mention some of the things she's into, some of the things we used to get up to..."
"Really? Must've been awkward."
"It wasn't your average vanilla stuff, Belle. In fact...," he anxiously rubbed his brow, "she went into detail about our involvement in the BDSM scene."
He watched me, trying to gauge my reaction.
I licked my lips and ventured a vague expression of concern. My mind was racing.
"Anyway, some of the party didn't take it so well. I mean, they didn't say anything to me at the time...but later..."
"Judgmental gits." My own vehemence surprised me.
Jack looked just as surprised. Then he recovered and gave me a soft smile.
"So, what was it you blurted," I asked, hesitantly.
"I mentioned that I had plans for Lynne."
It was my turn to groan.
"Yeah," was all he said.
"So, Lynne..?"
"Is disgusted. Apparently, I'm a sick misogynist who'd scare any sane woman. That's verbatim."
"Shit." I hesitated. "Maybe it'll just take time-"
Jack shook his head.
"Thanks for trying to reassure me, though. You're lovely, you know that?"
My face burned.
"Well, you're my friend," I mumbled.
The smile he gave me then stayed with me all afternoon.
Jack caught me just as I was unlocking my car door. He shook his umbrella open and held it over us as the first drops spattered on the dark bitumen. I couldn't help noticing the way his shirt clung to his torso in the humidity.
"Just wanted to make sure we're okay." His fingers rested lightly on my arm.
"Of course we are." I instinctively leaned into his touch, before catching myself and jerking away. I hoped he hadn't noticed.
"I'm sorry, but I just can't believe you're not shocked at all."
"I'm really not." I shrugged. "I mean, it's possible that it hasn't really processed yet. It's not a subject I've ever given that much thought."
"Okay." He nodded, still looking worried.
"See you tomorrow?" I gave him a brief, awkward hug and escaped into the stifling cocoon of my car.
My apartment was similarly stifling, the air fetid with stale cigarettes and booze. I silently cursed my flatmate as I wrestled the windows open. I felt flushed and dizzy. I flopped on to the lounge and took some deep breaths, trying to restore my wits. A fine mist of rain reached my face.
"Jack, Jack, Jack..." I breathed a mantra, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat.
I'd spent the afternoon visualising Jack's face above mine, uncharacteristically stern as he was issuing some order or other, his eyes an intense, stormy blue. It was as far as I had gotten in "processing" his revelation, because I was afraid of the feelings this image stirred in me.
I had felt something for Jack from the beginning, since I'd started work at the university. He stood out, above every man I'd ever met. Not in looks alone, though he was striking. He moved like his veins ran with quicksilver instead of blood. He was tall and lithe - but not overly muscular. He had a sensitive mouth I wanted to kiss every time it quirked into a smile. And he had artists' fingers. But it was his manner that held my attention. He was direct and friendly. He seemed to know something about everything; he was passionate, but never arrogant. Above all, he never treated me any different because of my relative youth. I was just Isabel to him. I loved talking to him, and we had fallen into the habit of lunching together. He was the best part of my working life.
But he was off-limits.
I needed to take a shower.
I stood under the spray, daydreaming. As I washed myself, I let my hand rest on my pubic mound, tilting my head back as I let my anticipation build. I saw Jack in my mind's eye, smiling his crooked, electric smile. I stroked the soft hair on my outer lips and slipped one finger gently between them. I felt so hot but the water had washed away most of my natural lubrication. I tentatively brushed my engorged clitoris with a fingertip and winced as the intense friction sent a stab of pleasure-tinged pain shooting through my pussy. Frustrated, I applied more pressure, squashing my swollen flesh and reveling in the ache that centred under my fingers and radiated through my whole body. With the smallest of movements, I ground my clitoris against my pubic bone, torturing myself, feeling my vaginal muscles clenching around nothing, pushing myself until the muscles in my wrist started to seize painfully. I stopped, wondering how I could be rubbed raw and desperate for more sensation all at once. I leaned my forehead against the shower screen. Why was I so strange? Why couldn't I climax?
I shut off the taps, dejected. Standing in front of the mirror, I studied my virginal form with more than a little distaste. Soft breasts tipped with large, pale pink nipples, an arse that jutted out below two prominent dimples. I longed for the hard-bodied perfection of a catwalk model. I rested a hand on the flat planes of my stomach and tried to imagine seducing a man. I had to smile. I could hardly talk freely to Jack, who I'd known for a year. I cupped my breasts, speculating. Could anyone know the kinds of fantasies that dominated my waking mind? Would Jack be shocked, even turned on?
I shrugged into a cotton wrap and pinned my thick hair into a messy bun, leaving a few black tendrils curling around my face. I studied my reflection up close. Too pale. My green eyes too wide and ingenuous. I looked younger than twenty-three. I didn't look enticing. I knew people saw me as aloof, reserved, a prude. I hated it.
"Belle?"
My flatmate crashed through the front door. I headed out to greet her.
The rain had cleared by morning. The air was deliciously cool as I left my car and headed to the nearest coffee cart. Suitably armed for battle, I arrived at the office just five minutes late, resisting the temptation to see if Jack was in yet. My colleagues were already in full swing.
"You'd never suspect it, would you?"
"He is a little bit...different. I'm not really surprised. I did think he was gay, though. What do women see in him? Why would any self-respecting woman let him do... that?"
"There are some fucked up people out there."
I flung a pile of books onto my desk. Leon shot me a look of incredulous disdain.
