“That one.” I pointed to a chocolate profiterole.
“Good choice. Very subliminal.”
I took a deep breath. “Why are you here?”
She turned to look at me. “Let’s talk over there.”
Following her into the corner, I tried not to watch her hips sway. My boyfriend’s ex, no less, sashaying around like the Queen of England. She pulled a chair out and sat with the same assured style.
“You know whose table this is?” I plopped down beside her.
“Damien won’t mind.”
“What if he comes back?”
She scooped some icing off the cupcake and brought the spoon to her mouth, eating with a sensuality usually reserved for other pursuits. “How have you been?”
A part of my brain advised me to take notes.
“Dr. Rhodes, friends don’t swoop in for the kill when they see a weakness.”
She tutted. “I’m going to stop you right there, Pandora. Never reveal a chink in your armor. First rule of war.”
“Is that what this is?”
“You know how breathtaking you are. You can’t pass a mirror without being reminded.” She looked me up and down. “But your parents still have you dressed up like a debutante. Imagine when you’re finally allowed to choose your own gowns. “
“I chose this.”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “No, you didn’t.”
Bitch. I hated how her guesses were always right. “I never opened the box,” I admitted. “If you’re wondering.”
She let out a thoughtful sigh.
My fingers tightened around my clutch purse, and I saw her glance at it.
“I’m not here for Damien.”
“Then who?”
“You.”
Picking up the profiterole, I munched on the round end, making an erotic noise while doing so. The chocolate pastry was delicious.
“Love your style.” She gestured to the waiter.
When he arrived at our table, Rhodes ordered four shots of Patrón.
I waited until the server wandered off. “Hope one of those tequila shots isn’t for me.”
“If you insist on keeping the necklace, you’ll need a stiff drink.” She licked her spoon, her tongue dancing on metal again. “How shockable are you?”
“In what respect?”
“I’m going to show you something.” She set the spoon down on her plate and fished around inside her purse, withdrawing her phone. After swiping to the left a few times, she placed it on her lap and covered it with her palm as the waiter dropped off the four shots.
He looked flustered, which was typical male behavior around Rhodes, I imagined.
After the server left, she leaned in to show me the screen. “Take a peek.”
My breath caught as I stared at the image of a naked woman with her hands tied behind her back, red silk ribbon binding her wrists together.
My face felt scorching hot; she knew Damien had done this to me.
I couldn’t drag my stare away.
“Ms. Bardot, what is your first thought?”
She knows what happened in that loft.
A sense of betrayal flipped my world and turned an already ruined evening into a nightmare.
“Tell me what you’re thinking?” she whispered.
My throat tightened with grief over a breakup there was no coming back from. Damien had told her what we’d done. All trust was lost.
“Why?” My chest heaved with uncertainty.
“This is the tamest thing he likes.” She slid the tequila shot glass toward me.
“What?”
She gave me a sympathetic smile.
I gave my head a little shake to clear it, trying to grasp her meaning.
“The moment you walked out of my office with that necklace, I felt guilty. What wearing it brings…”
“What does it bring?”
“Pain, pleasure…everything that traverses the spectrum of bondage. Do you understand what I’m saying? I need you to know what is expected of you if you wear it.”
I blinked at her. “He likes it rough?”
She swiped the screen. “Look.”
Another photo, only this one was of a woman kneeling before a man in a suit. She was dressed in a bodice with no panties, peering up at him with adoration. Her hands were tied behind her back with black silk.
“How does it make you feel?” asked Madeline.
My nipples beaded, my body shuddering through the realization that I was aroused by what she was showing me. My face flushed with embarrassment as I imagined being that girl.
“Very good, Pandora.” She approved of my reaction and slid to another photo. “Now this.”
Needing a break from the assault on my mind and senses, I reached for the shot glass and downed the tequila, swallowing the burn. It tasted nasty.
“Want some water?” she asked.
“Just show it to me already.”
Oh, God.
Both of us stared down at an image of a naked woman completely bound in rope, hanging from the ceiling. Her breasts were caught in the binds themselves, pink and very pert nipples peeking out between the strands of rope. Her lover’s face was buried between her thighs and he was making her come hard, her blonde locks flying wild as he feasted on her pussy, her mouth open as though crying out in agony. Another swipe led to the next image, showing her with a half smile on her face.
Madeline offered me an earbud connected to her phone. I slipped it in, swept away by what came next—actual footage.
On the screen a woman was moaning loudly as two men took her. Both of them had their cocks shoved deep inside her, one in her vagina and the other in her ass.
Rhodes was showing this to me, here—with all these oblivious people around us—in the St. Regis, no less.
Yet I continued to watch…mesmerized by the footage. It was the way the woman looked up at her lovers with wanton gratitude, as though this experience of being taken by two men was a gift meant to be savored. The woman was enraptured by what they were doing to her, her thighs shaking uncontrollably, her moans echoing. I pulled the earbud out to make sure no one else could hear.
“Madeline, why are you showing me this?” I blurted out.
“Because I care about you.” She leaned forward to whisper. “I care about Damien, too.”
Her expression made her words seem sincere.
She took the earbud out of my fingers and eased it back into my ear so I could continue to secretly watch the video. I allowed myself to awaken to what was possible—that could be me.
The woman’s eyelids flickered as she endured a toe-curling orgasm.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” I heard myself saying.
Madeline’s hand swept up and down my arm to comfort me. “Her master has trained her for double penetration.”
“Shush.”
“No one can hear us.”
My panties were wet; a familiar stickiness I’d come to welcome.
“Do you want that to be you?” she asked, her voice sounding distant.
Yes.
No.
I don’t know.
Because right now it felt like my clit was buzzing even though nothing was touching it. All I’d done was imagine myself in the woman’s position and my arousal was spiraling toward a pinnacle.
How dare she show me this.