Naked Angel (24 page)

Violet stood before her, her green eyes amused, almost daring.

“Do it,” Violet said.

Gemma wanted to touch her, but she couldn’t.

“I’m not going to fuck you, so if you want to get off, you’d better get up the nerve to do what I know you’re dying to do.”

Gemma hesitated for only a minute, then said, “Lie down.”

Violet stretched out on the zebra rug. Gemma picked up the rope.

“Put your hands over your head,” she said. Violet did, and Gemma tied her wrists together. Then she pulled down Violet’s G-string. She couldn’t believe the urges she felt: She wanted to touch Violet’s shaved pussy. She wanted to stick her tongue inside of her. Gingerly, she stroked Violet’s outer lips. Violet spread her legs. Gemma stared at her glistening pinkness. “You didn’t give me enough rope,” she said.

“You’re making me wet,” Violet purred. “You can go into my bag.”

Gemma crossed the room, happy to be wearing the Tank Girl costume. She was able to pretend she was someone else, someone who had every reason to be doing what she was about to do.

She found another rope and a blindfold. She also found a collection of dildos, from which she selected the one that was the least alarming in size. She probably wouldn’t use it, but just in case.

Violet watched her silently from the rug. She didn’t seem to have moved from the position in which Gemma had left her.

Before she lost her nerve, Gemma set to work.

“Spread your legs wider,” she said in barely a whisper.

“I can’t hear you,” Violet taunted.

“Spread your legs,” Gemma said, a bark. A command.

Violet did as she was told.

Gemma used one rope to tie Violet’s right ankle to the edge of the couch, and the other to tie her left ankle to a chair. She surveyed her work: Violet was naked except for her shoes and spread-eagle. Gemma would have felt totally in control if it weren’t for Violet’s unnerving gaze. But there was a solution to that.

Gemma knelt by Violet’s head and tied the blindfold over her eyes. Of course, all Violet had to do was speak, and Gemma would lose the illusion of authority. She wondered if there was a gag somewhere in the black satchel. But she knew enough about the game to try a simpler solution.

“Don’t speak,” she commanded.

She felt she could relax for a minute, and she let her eyes wander over the perfect form splayed out before her. She thought of the intense pleasure she’d experienced at the fetish club—a feeling she’d never had before in her life. A feeling she wanted again—badly.

She thought of the way it had felt to do things to that redheaded woman, regardless of what that woman wanted. Maybe even doing things the woman didn’t want.

Gemma had no idea what would bring Violet physical pleasure. She realized it was better that way, because it gave her room for trial and error. And maybe the errors would be the most fun.

She knelt in between Violet’s legs and circled her finger along the outside of Violet’s pussy. Then she did something she’d never done before: She flicked her tongue against Violet’s clit, then pressed it down lower and deeper, tasting her sweet and pungent wetness.

“Yeah,” Violet said.

“I said, don’t speak,” Gemma warned. Then she knew it was the perfect opportunity to get what she really wanted. She moved her face from Violet’s pussy and stood up. She walked up to Violet’s shoulders, then put a foot on either side of her head. She got down on her knees, her own pussy inches from Violet’s lips. “This should keep your mouth occupied,” Gemma said. Just saying the words thrilled her. She lowered her pussy onto Violet’s face, and sure enough, Violet’s darting tongue licked her. Violet’s experienced mouth sucked on her clit, and Gemma felt a shock of pleasure that made her lose her balance. She needed Violet to fuck her—she needed her to do things to her that she could barely imagine. Quickly, she untied Violet’s hands and then her feet.

“Take off your blindfold,” Gemma said. Violet sat up, and Gemma stood in front of her. “I need you to fuck me,” she told her, peeling of her denim shorts and fishnet stockings.

“Lie down,” Violet said, without hesitation. Gemma did, spreading her legs. Her need was so great, she pressed her own fingers inside of herself. Violet smacked her hand away and pressed the head of the dildo against her, rubbing it slowly against her clit.

Gemma moaned, pressing her pelvis up toward Violet. She couldn’t believe the heat in her cunt, the throbbing need she’d never felt before in her life. She didn’t know why no man had ever been able to bring her to this edge, but they hadn’t.

Violet pressed the dildo inside of her, sliding it in and out.

“Harder,” Gemma said, and this elicited a wicked smile from Violet. She stopped for a minute and went to her black bag. She returned with a dildo of intimidating girth.

“This will be better,” Violet said. Gemma felt nervous, but there was no turning back. Violet eased the massive object inside of her slowly, filling Gemma with a satisfying pain. With only a few strokes, she came with a violent shudder and an animalistic scream.

“Yes, baby,” said Violet. When Gemma was finally still, Violet slid the dildo out and ran her tongue gently along Gemma’s pussy.

“Just for the record,” Violet said. “You can’t expect this with clients.”

“I don’t intend to do this professionally,” Gemma said.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” Violet said. “I can’t let this talent go to waste.”

N
adia’s doorman, Francisco, announced that Max was in the lobby to see her.

“Thanks—I’ll be right down,” she said into the intercom.

She was relieved that he’d actually shown up. When she’d called to tell him they needed to talk, he’d balked. And then even after he’d agreed to meet her, it had taken him so long to arrive, she thought maybe he’d changed his mind. But apparently she would get the chance to have her say after all.

She took one quick look in the mirror. Just the promise of seeing him had made her face come alive, her cheeks slightly flushed and her eyes bright. Yes, this was love, and the realization both terrified and thrilled her.

He was waiting outside the building—a clear indication that he had no intention of going up to her apartment. She hadn’t planned to invite him up, and yet the not-so-subtle message stung.

“Hey,” she said. He was wearing a white button-down shirt and madras plaid shorts. The casual clothes emphasized his deep tan, and he’d never looked more beautiful to her. She had to fight the urge to just throw her arms around him and tell him he was being crazy—that she loved him and they would work the other stuff out. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“No problem,” he said. “But I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Okay. We can just . . . do you want to walk over to Fifth Avenue and sit on a bench near the park?”

“Whatever,” he said. Okay, not exactly making things easy on her.

They crossed Park and walked silently to Madison, and then Fifth. The benches lining the cobbled promenade in front of Central Park were empty. Nadia sat in the first one they passed.

Max sat on the bench, leaving such distance between them that anyone passing by would not have realized they were together.

“First, I, um, wanted to thank you for helping out with the costumes. It means a lot to me—and Mallory, too.”

“I appreciate the thanks, Nadia. But it’s not a big deal, and we could have, you know, had this conversation over the phone.”

“That’s not why I called you,” she said, avoiding eye contact. She suddenly felt stupid for initiating this meeting. He said nothing, just waited for her to continue. How could she say what she wanted to say with the most sensitivity? “I know about your mother,” she blurted. Okay, that probably was not the most delicate approach.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“I was thinking about you when I got home tonight, and I Googled you, and I found the name Janine Jasper. I was thinking maybe you’d been married or something so I followed the links, and I read about your mom. She’s beautiful, by the way.”

He shook his head. “Nadia, I don’t know what this has to do with . . .”

“I couldn’t understand why you were being so judgmental about the burlesque thing, or why you were making it into a deal breaker for us. And now I get it.”

“Oh really? What do you ‘get’?” he said, seeming more irritated than impressed by her cyber-sleuthing.

“I’m guessing that your mom’s nude modeling upset your father, and maybe she stopped for a while but then resented having to give up her career and she went back to it, and then your dad left because they couldn’t agree on it. But I have to think, Max, that it wasn’t just her career that made him leave. There had to be other things that didn’t work between them. And so you’re thinking that because we don’t agree on the burlesque issue, our relationship will never work out. But I think that’s just an oversimplification—and now I understand
why
you think that way, but it doesn’t make it any more valid.”

He shook his head, but less angry now, more wistful. “Nadia, I’m glad you were thinking about me and care enough about our relationship to try to understand why I believe it won’t work. And maybe there is some truth to what you are saying. But that doesn’t change the way I feel. If people are too different, the relationship won’t work. If every decision is a compromise, the constant negotiating will take its toll. And what we have between us is a major philosophical disagreement. I admit, I have no right to tell you how to live your life. But you can’t tell me that I’m crazy to not want my girlfriend getting naked onstage every week. Neither one of us is wrong, but that doesn’t solve the problem.”

“I know. I get that. What I’m trying to say is that now I understand more of why you feel that way, and it makes me realize you’re not trying to control me or judge me—that this is something that really bothers you, and you don’t want to spend the next five years of your life fighting about it only to see us break up anyway. And what I’m realizing is that I’m still so angry about the way things went down with my ex-fiancé, I’m not willing to give an inch for a relationship. And it’s stupid, because I’m more upset at the thought of losing you than I am at the thought of not performing burlesque.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’d rather stop burlesque than lose the chance to see if this relationship can work.”

“Nadia, now I feel like a total jerk.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel like a jerk. I just want to fix this. I want you to know that if burlesque is the only thing standing between us and our having a good relationship, I put the relationship first. And, honestly, if the relationship isn’t working, I can always go back to burlesque. But I want to give us a chance.”

“Are you going to resent me for making you compromise like this?”

She shook her head. “No. Now that I understand things better, I’m relieved to be able to compromise.”

He pulled her to him, an embrace so fierce that she knew he had been as distraught about the impasse as she had been.

“I can’t believe you would do that for me,” he said, still holding her.

“I want to give it a try,” she said.

“So do I.” He sat back and looked at her. She could see the happiness on his face, and she knew she’d made the right decision.

“Will you do one thing for me?” she said.

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you!”

“The answer is still yes.”

“Okay—good. Because I want you to come with me to Vegas in three weeks. I’m going to go with Mallory and the girls for moral support. And I want you there with me.”

“I think I can manage that,” he said. He stood up from the bench and held his hand out to help her up.

“You have to go?” she asked, trying to hide her disappointment.

“How’s your lower back feeling?”

“What? It’s . . . okay.”

“Just okay? That sounds like you need a massage.” He smiled.

“You’re coming over?”

“I can’t let my girlfriend walk around with a backache,” he said, pulling her to him.

“I love you,” she said. She surprised herself by saying it aloud, but she didn’t regret it.

“I love you, too,” he said. “And I promise, even though you were the first to sacrifice and compromise for this relationship, I won’t let you be the only one.”

“I barely feel like I sacrificed anything,” she said. And it was true.