Plaything: Paolo's Playhouse, Book 4

BOOK: Plaything: Paolo's Playhouse, Book 4
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Dedication

To my family and friends, I couldn’t do what I do without you.

Chapter One

Paolo’s Playhouse. A new playground for consenting adults. Playrooms for every interest or desire. Bring your own plaything or we can provide one for you. We’ll help your fantasies come to life. Inquiries, phone…

The newspaper in Julianne’s hands rattled and she dropped it to the table as if it had burned her trembling fingers. The discreet ad at the bottom of the page grabbed her attention and wouldn’t let her go. Her heart raced and her nipples prickled. Words seemed to flash before her eyes.

Playhouse. Plaything. Fantasies.

She flipped the paper over and pushed away from the table. The marinated chicken breast and tossed salad sat, uneaten, in front of her. She didn’t feel like dinner any longer, didn’t even want the Chardonnay she’d poured to try to relax. The jumbled nerves in her stomach left no room for food. But the words kept running through her mind.

Playhouse. Plaything. Fantasies.

Sure, she had fantasies. Who didn’t? Leather cuffs and silky ropes, sweaty skin and long-fingered masculine hands were the images that danced behind her closed eyes each night when she used her trusty vibrator. Sometimes she thought her fantasies were the only things that kept her sane. But that didn’t mean she’d ever try to act them out in real life. Not again.

Julianne paced her apartment, restlessness buzzing through her system like an itch she couldn’t scratch. What was wrong with her? She didn’t have time to think about her sexual fantasies now. She had work to do. Work was what kept her sane. Work. Not fantasies.

She took refuge in the spare bedroom she’d converted into her workshop. Usually she felt happy there, but tonight the room seemed smaller, darker. The air was stale and stagnant. Still, she flipped through sample after sample, searching for the perfect drapery fabric for her current project. Nothing seemed right tonight. Everything felt flat, boring. But she couldn’t admit that work wasn’t enough anymore.

What would she have then?

She finally found a beautiful gold-and-green brocade that would be ideal for the draperies in the Olsons’ new dining room. And she had the perfect drapery ties to go with it. She’d gotten them on sale months ago, waiting for the right project. She opened the cabinet drawer and pulled out a length of braided cord.

Her breath caught as she ran the silky gold cord through her fingers. Slowly, without even realizing it, she wrapped it around her wrist, once, twice, and pulled tight. She stared at the dark gold cord wrapped around her pale skin as if wondering where it had come from. She tugged it again. Illicit thrills shivered over her skin, prickling her nipples and sending her sex throbbing.

We’ll help your fantasies come to life.

Bondage. She could admit to herself that being tied up during sex had always been her secret fantasy, but could she admit it to someone else? She’d tried once, with a guy she thought she could trust. She’d gathered up all her nerve and timidly asked him to tie her wrists to the headboard before they had sex. Bill had recoiled in shock, horrified that she would think he’d ever want to abuse a woman in that way. He’d stared at her as if there were something wrong with her and had refused to listen as she’d tried to explain about fantasies and consensual kink.

She’d never mentioned it again to another soul.

In fact, she’d buried it so deep she’d thought it had been forgotten, but the emotional scars from that disaster had probably colored every lousy relationship she’d had since then. She’d never again dared ask for what she wanted in the bedroom. Never dared believe she could actually experience real bondage, even once. She’d resigned herself to a boring sex life and inventive fantasies of her own making.

Somehow Julianne found herself back at the kitchen table, the cord still wrapped tightly around her wrist. She flipped the paper back over and read the words again. Could this be her chance to live out her fantasy? She grabbed the glass of wine still sitting on the table and drank in down in several long gulps. Then before she could think twice, she snatched up her phone and punched in the number.

“This is Paolo’s Playhouse. How may I help you?”

The warm male voice and its lyrical accent—Spanish? Italian? Greek?—nearly melted her into a puddle on her kitchen floor. She couldn’t seem to speak as she imagined a dark, exotic man at the other end of the line. One of her favorite fantasy images, strong masculine hands holding her wrists, sprang to her mind. She knew her fantasy lovers from now on would speak with this incredible voice.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

“Yes.” Her voice cracked and she had to swallow before she could speak again. “Yes, I’m here.”

“Wonderful. How may I help you?”

Her knees began to shake and she sank into the chair. “I…I saw your ad.” She swallowed again. She was an intelligent businesswoman, why could she not form a coherent sentence?

“And do you perhaps have a fantasy I could help you with?”

If he was half as sexy as his voice, he could help her with anything. She nearly let a nervous giggle slip out, but this suddenly seemed too important to joke about. “Bondage.” It was harder than she thought it would be to say it out loud.

“Ah, of course. And do you prefer the caress of the ropes or the weight of the chains?”

She shivered and rubbed the cord still hugging her wrist, pulled it tighter and felt the answering tug in her core. “Um, ropes. I think.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. What was wrong? Surely he couldn’t be shocked like her old boyfriend had been.

“What is your name?” he asked after a moment.

“Julianne.”

“I heard some hesitation in your voice. Tell me, Julianne. Have you ever been bound before?”

The words finally burst from her lips, the admission she’d not allowed herself to say for so long. “No. That’s why I’m calling. I want to know what it’s like. I think I need to know.”

“Are you certain?” he asked softly. “Do you really want to allow another person to bind your body? To take away all your control?” His voice became even softer, almost seductive in tone. “Do you want to allow him to enjoy your body in any way he desires and in return, bring you to an intense level of satisfaction you have perhaps never been able to attain before?”

As he spoke, her body pulsed with awareness. He summed up her feelings perfectly. His sensual words conjured up the desperate need that had been buried deep within her. “Yes. Exactly.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Can you help me?”

“Of course. That is why we are here. Will you be bringing your partner with you?”

“No. I don’t have anyone.” That sounded pathetic. “I mean, I don’t have anyone I want to…you know, tie me up and take me.” There was that silence again. “Is that a problem? The ad said—”

“No, of course it is no problem. I simply want to be certain to match you with the right person.”

“Oh, I didn’t think about that.” She hadn’t really given a thought to the other half of the equation. To the person who would be tying her up. She’d been too focused on her own needs. “Of course, you have to match me up with someone who wants to…um…who wants to…”

“Who wants to tie up a willing woman,” he completed. There was a touch of amusement in his voice and Julianne had the sudden wish to see his smile. “You are in luck. There will be someone here tomorrow night who has need of a bondage toy.”

Bondage toy?
She shivered.

“Can you come tomorrow night at seven?”

“Tomorrow?” So soon? But would putting it off be any better? “Yes. All right. Tomorrow.”

He went on to explain things like contracts and membership fees, but Julianne could only think about the fact that she was going to be one of the playthings that Paolo’s Playhouse provided for their members.

Oh God.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow night, Julianne,” he said and the warmth in his voice made her believe he meant it. She found herself looking forward to it too.

She was worthless at work the next day, unable to concentrate on anything but her plans for the night. She managed to meet with the Olsons and get their approval for the drapery fabric, and then help them decide on a wall color to complement the material, but her mind was only halfway on the project. She made sure she wrote everything down because she was certain she wouldn’t be able to remember a single detail tomorrow.

When the time came, she almost didn’t make the drive out to the former warehouse that sat on the outskirts of town. Almost convinced herself that fantasies weren’t meant to be lived out. The part of her that had been hurt by Bill whispered that she’d most likely be disappointed and it wasn’t like she wanted to do it more than once anyway. Why do it at all?

In the end, though, she knew she’d regret it if she talked herself out of going tonight. Now that her secret desire had been uncovered, she doubted it would be buried so easily again.

Her hands were shaking as she pulled her car into the well-lit parking lot. She’d had dinner at one of the restaurants on the first floor of the converted warehouse a few months ago. Had the Playhouse been fulfilling fantasies even then? Her steps clicked on the concrete, but the ride up in the elevator was silent. The doors opened onto a surprisingly plush waiting room. It was empty when she entered.

The room was decorated in lush colors, burgundy, gold, emerald green, sapphire blue. As an interior decorator, she could appreciate the luxurious ambience. As an anxious plaything, she could care less if the chairs were comfortable or if the amazing art on the walls were originals as they appeared to be.

She paced the soft carpet and let her imagination run wild. Was she crazy to give her body over to a complete stranger? What kind of man would he be? How could she trust him not to hurt her? What if she didn’t like being tied up? What if giving total control to someone else was frightening? How could she be so stupid as to put herself in this position?

She was about to turn tail and run when the ornately carved wooden door opened and a man stepped into the room.

He was so beautiful, she nearly sighed. Black hair fell in waves around his face. Long dark lashes framed electric-blue eyes. His seductive smile sent shivers across her skin. He held out his hand to her.

“I am Paolo. Welcome. You must be Julianne.”

Her breath caught in her throat. That voice. Once again, he rendered her speechless. Her hand shook slightly, but he simply clasped it between his two large, warm ones and didn’t comment on her visible nerves.

She’d dreamed about him last night. In the sensual world of her dreams, she’d been unable to see, unable to move, but she knew he was there with her. He’d seduced her in the darkness with his magical voice, with his seeking lips. His skilled hands had roamed over her naked body, arousing her to a fevered peak. His long fingers had cuffed her wrists, his hard body had pinned her to the mattress. All the while he’d continued to speak to her in words she didn’t even understand, yet his voice aroused her as much as his hands and body did. She’d awakened hours before dawn, sweaty and aching with need. Yearning to feel his touch again and longing to hear his voice.

Now his gaze ran over her body. She swore she could feel the heat from his eyes searing her skin. Tingles of arousal skittered across her skin and burst through her body. Her doubts disappeared. This was what she wanted. She was so tired of feeling nothing. Of going through the motions. Feeling numb. Feeling bored.

She wasn’t bored now.

He made no secret of checking out the merchandise, so to speak. She’d agonized over what to wear, even though she knew she’d be stripping it off. She hoped the snug, white V-neck sweater, tight black skirt and four-inch heels met with his approval. Her nipples tightened as he homed in on her unbound breasts. Her sex softened as his gaze met hers. He smiled.

“You are lovely,” he said. “Come. We’ll talk for a few minutes and if everything is satisfactory, I will prepare you.”

Prepare me?

He led her into a small office decorated in the same rich colors as the waiting area. A large mahogany desk took up most of the space, along with a couple of chairs and more incredible artwork on the walls. He held out one of the chairs for her to sit in and then took his seat behind the desk.

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