©
2012 Brunne
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Okay, pretty overwhelmed by the comments I got on the first chapter. Thank you. Apparently it really is as fun to read something as to write it. Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did.
Brunne
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It wasn't until I'd undressed myself that night that it occurred to me that I was missing a rather vital item of my wardrobe. He still had my white lace panties. Oh well, I had his tie, right? So he wasn't the only one with an odd, disturbing trophy for what had turned out to be the strangest, most exciting car ride I'd ever been on.
In a weird way, not being able to see myself do something almost made it seem as if I hadn't actually...done it, somehow. That it might not have actually happened. There was an element of unreality that clung to my memories which I couldn't readily shake. But there was the tie. I couldn't unreality-away the tie. Or the bruise that spread steadily across my inner thigh.
I kept the mobile phone charged, and checked it daily. I developed eyes in the back of my head at work. Nothing. I tried to access his email calendar through the central address book to see if he'd taken holiday time, but after staring at the pop-up message telling me I'd need to ask permission for access, I just heaved a weary sigh and hit 'Cancel'.
He owed me nothing. No promises made. No promises broken. Okay, so he'd had his fix and moved on. He'd said I'd 'pleased him'. So maybe that was the end of it? Perhaps his jollies pinnacled at watching young girls masturbate on his custom leather car seats? I'd heard of stranger things.
But it was a bad sign. The fact that I didn't actually check the phone just daily. It was sort of becoming an obsession. A bad habit I just couldn't...kick. Just when I thought I'd started to forget, some sensation would flash back full-force. His gentle caress on my neck. The breathlessness from being trapped by his hands. His eyes. Nothing haunted me quite like his eyes. All silvery flint, with a steely harshness that covered for some other thing. I didn't know for sure, but there had been moments when he'd dropped his guard, just for a millisecond. Something else lived behind that impenetrable shield, and it tugged at me and wouldn't let me go. I thought I'd heard it in his voice too, pacing restlessly like some caged animal.
* * * * *
It could only have been about a week that passed. But time doesn't always play by the rules or go by in an orderly way like it's supposed to.
It was going to be another restless night. Too warm, too frustrated. When the phone hummed insistently against the smooth surface of my bedside table I just lay for several seconds, not breathing, convinced I'd dropped off for a second and dreamed it. But there it was again.
Somewhere between trying to turn the light on and fumbling for the phone it ended up on the floor. I scrabbled around under the bed until my hand found the shiny blackness. Squinting, I could see the little envelope icon flashing. I blinked a few times, certain it was some sort of mirage (can you have a mirage if you're not in the middle of a desert?).
I clicked the button to open it.
'There's something for you,'
was all it said.
I stared at it, frowning. That's it? I checked the details of the message just to be certain it was actually from him and not just some wrong number. It was then that I noticed the icon was still flashing. Another message.
'Inside your desk at work.'
Well, that did me a great lot of good, considering I was at home. In bed. Was he just trying to torture me? A thought struck me, and a mixture of sickness and embarrassment did a slow roll in my stomach. Maybe he was just returning my underwear. The idea of him wandering around with my intimate garments at work was far from appealing. That was bad enough. But it was the finality of it. The end of the game. I took a deep breath and resigned myself to watching it winding down, spinning away into the dark recesses of my memory as some crazy thing I did once.
No regrets, right? I went to push the power-down button on the phone, but it buzzed in my hand as if in protest. I did jump this time, and my hand shook as I opened the message.
'Are you okay?'
Something flooded through me. A sort of relief. I pushed it away as soon as I felt it. It didn't mean anything...
'Fine. You?'
I texted back. I knew it sounded curt, but he'd gone silent for a week, hadn't he?
The wait was excruciating. I lay my head back on the pillow, my hand covering the phone where it rested on my churning stomach. When it went off again, I felt the vibration through my whole body.
'Tired. Lagged as hell.'
My mind slowly digested this information, while the thought that this was the closest thing we'd ever had to a 'normal' conversation tugged at me. So he'd been away? Was that the cause of the silence?
I didn't care how it sounded, I replied with a rather demanding sounding,
'Where were you?
' Of course, I paid for it as soon as his answer came back.
'Why, did you miss me?'
Bastard. Yes. YES. Damn you.
But the vibration started again before I could come up with a suitable comeback.
'Is it still there?'
I was tempted to play dumb, but the best answer was always the most direct one.
The photo showed the curve of my inner thigh, the crescent of bruising on the pale skin, along with a goodly swath of my best black lace panties. The rest would have to be up to his own imagination. I couldn't resist a little smug smile as I pressed the send button.
The reply was a good minute in coming.
'Fuck.'
was all it said.
And with that I knew the game was far from over.
* * * * *
To say I was early getting to work the next day was an understatement. I risked running into Jarod, but my anxious curiosity about what could possibly be waiting for me in my desk drawer propelled me out of bed as soon as my eyes opened. I found myself keeping company with only the most hard-core of the PAs in the silence of the near-empty office.
I forced myself to do my usual routine, if only to calm my nerves. Handbag tucked away, coat on the rack. Computer booting through the various security screens while I made a wary foray into the kitchen for my caffeine fix. Considering I was petrified of running into him, it was pretty stupid of me to be floating around the office, practically on my own. I didn't breathe easy until I was back at my desk, ensconced behind my computer screen.
He'd said he'd left it...whatever
it
was...in my desk, right? I pulled the drawer open with some caution, only to find a rather harmless looking envelope propped inside. No underwear. No trick snakes. The envelope had my name on it. It was definitely his handwriting.
It was sealed, so I had to rip it open, which I did with ridiculous care. Inside was a piece of paper, folded in three. A small card fell out, but I only glanced at it for a second once I saw what was printed on the paper. What on earth? The letterhead had a Harley Street address on it...it was from a clinic. A quick scan of the text and I finally got it. Well, I grasped the content at least. It was a report. A health-check report...for sexually transmitted diseases.
I dropped the letter like it was a hot potato. It had his name all over it and everything. What the fuck was he thinking, sending me this? It was confidential information! Had he given me the wrong envelope by mistake? I scrabbled on the desk for the small card that had come with it, hoping it held some clue. It was just a business card for the same clinic. It had his writing on the reverse side.
'You have an appointment here, just call them and tell them when. Up to you. It's all paid for.'
It was signed simply
'J'.
Eventually my jaw made its re-acquaintance with the rest of my face. I picked up the letter again and scanned down the rather horrific list of sexually transmitted afflictions, noting the all-clear notes next to each, the authorising physician's signature and stamp clearly showing at the bottom.
Perhaps it was the early morning, the fact I'd only had a few sips of my coffee, I don't know. It took a little while for it to dawn on me what it all meant. So he wanted this...thing...between us to go further? As in...the needing-to-know-each-other's-sexual-health type of further?
I couldn't decide if it was the coldest and most unromantic thing I'd ever heard of, or if it was the most responsible and grown-up gesture anyone had ever made towards me. Had he really the gall to make me take a test to ensure I wouldn't defile him? But then again...he'd done the test first. And had the guts to share the results with me, clear or no. Who was taking the bigger risk here?
I couldn't deny the thrill I felt at the thought that it wasn't just some flash in the pan for him either. I also couldn't deny that the wretched tingles were doing their 'thing' at the thought of him doing anything to me that required a full medical exam beforehand!
The letter was carefully folded and stowed away in the deepest recesses of my handbag. I sat and stared at the card for some time. Decision time again. I peered around to make sure no one was in earshot, switched on the mobile he'd given me and made the call. Damn it if I didn't ask for the earliest appointment they had.
* * * * *
Believe me, the second thoughts kicked in somewhere between the seemingly endless blood tests and the swabbing of places I didn't even know existed. Apparently I'd hear back within a few days. And, apparently he'd paid for the FULL package of tests and the rush on results. I'd had a quick peek at the brochures and had to muffle my audible gasp when I saw the prices. Unless the guy had some sort of frequent-flyer miles with them, it was far from cheap. I could see it now,
