Vow of Silence (15 page)

“A serial killer? Gigi didn’t die.”

“She’s very lucky she didn’t.”

“So you keep saying.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She doesn’t and that’s a real problem. “Last night you were
angry because I forced you to see that Doctor Psycho isn’t going anywhere. Why
did you come here?”

“I know I will not find peace as long as I hold on to
indignation. I haven’t been fair to you. I haven’t explained why I know I can
never be a part of this lifestyle.”

“What scares you most?”

“It reminds me of my wedding night, but my marriage, my
servitude, wasn’t for thirty days—thirty days would have been easy.”

Her admission makes most of the puzzle fall into place,
especially why she insists so adamantly that she is not kinky. “Did he abuse
you?”

“He hated me—everything about me. He hated that he’d been
forced to marry me. But he had sex with me anyway. Always when he wanted.
Always the way he wanted. I had no say. That’s why I don’t understand why any
woman would willingly go into that situation.”

“I understand now. I’m sorry you had that experience.” I
pull her into my arms and stroke her hair. “I want you to do something for me.”

She nods her face against my chest.

“Kneel.”

Lin pulls away from me quickly and backs across the room.
She is breathing so hard her chest is heaving. “You said you understand why I
can’t be kinky.”

“I understand that you had a horrible experience. One in
which you had no power. I’m trying to give you your power back.”

“By demanding I offer you obedience?” I watch her face
crumble, and it is a beautiful sight. Tears follow but I don’t comfort her.

“By asking you to willingly kneel so that I can demonstrate
the difference. You were forced into a situation of cruelty. I’m offering you a
chance to experience the joy of complete love and trust.” I pull her into my
arms. “Do you still want me to escort you to the museum?”

I look down into her face and there is such utter
vulnerability in her eyes. I think she will start to weep again when she
answers, “Yes”

“Do you still want to be my lover?”

“Here? Now?”

“Why not?”

“We’re in your office, but I suppose that sounds like a
ridiculous excuse.
God. How many women have you had sex with in this very
room?
Our worlds are so different. Are we only delaying the inevitable? I’m
so confused! I’m a good girl, George.
I want to be a good girl.
”

She kisses me gently on the lips, and I can imagine it being
our goodbye kiss.
It feels like goodbye.
I don’t want this to be the
end. I want her to tell me that she can love me the way I am. With my heart
breaking, I kiss her back. “I really want to show you how it could be, Lin. Let
me make love to you. Here. Now. In my domain.”

“Your domain because you are Lord here? You are Master?” Lin
giggles. “
Master.
I can’t even imagine.”

“You can’t imagine, Lin? Really?”

“You’re right. I could fall into depravity so easily, bring
shame on to my family. I can’t let that happen. I can’t. You are a temptation
that I should have run from, but like a moth to a flame I keep coming back.”

I slide out of my jacket. I unbutton my shirt. “I like that
you keep coming back.”

“Don’t take your clothes off, George. I won’t be able to say
no.”

Smiling, trying to appear unthreatening, I slide off my
pants…my shoes…my socks. I start to undress her, and I’m not certain she even
realizes because she lifts her face and offers me her lips. I take full
advantage.

She kisses my bare shoulder and energy crawls over my skin,
her kisses seeming electric as need courses down my spine. My hand slides to
her slit. I find her wet, ready. I push her down onto her knees, going with
her.

“God, George. I need this.”

My fingers slide deep and I pump her hard. Lin responds
quickly, her vaginal muscles tightening with her moans.

“Too fast, George.”

“You said you needed this.”

“Yes, yes, but just a little break?” She squeezes tight,
trying to hold my fingers inside, trying to slow my assault.

I don’t want her to have a break, I want her to come. “Now,
Lin, come for me now. Show me how much you like being at my mercy.”

I thrust in and out of her harder.

“Oh God, George!”

I curl my fingers into her G-spot, jerking her orgasm from
her hard and fast.

She begs, “Please, please, please.”

I look at Lin—on the floor, ass still raised, confusion
written all over her face—and worry that I’ve pushed too hard. I have to. I
have to start pushing. I have to get control. I have to teach her what it will
mean to be part of my life, and if she can’t accept this for what it is—we both
need to walk away—before we both get hurt. She rolls onto her side and watches
me dress. She makes no move to.

If Lewd Larry’s was still Lewd Larry’s I could imagine
myself commanding she crawl behind me, follow me to The Oasis and putting her
on display as my precious pet. I can imagine her as a viciously clawed Siamese
cat. It’s almost a shame The Oasis is no longer The Oasis. I miss quiet dinners
there with my friends. Maybe I acted too soon. Maybe I should have left
everything the way it was—except nothing will ever be the same again.

I don’t really want a pet anyway.

I would prefer leading Lin to The Operating Room and
strapping her to the stainless steel table. She would be a feast for my eyes,
bound, displayed and at my mercy while I enjoy dinner and conversation with my
friends. I try to imagine her submitting not only to my hands, my exploration,
but to the touch of strangers…

The mental visual is all too clear.
God.

“What are you thinking?” she asks. She’s still lying on the
floor.

“That I would like to be your Master.”

She pushes up onto one elbow. “I’m not that girl, George.”

“You could be.” I walk to the door and after opening it,
keep walking—because if I don’t walk away it’s going to be ugly. I’ve forgotten
such self-restraint. I’ve lived away from moral civilization so long now that
my normal is so far removed from socially acceptable it’s criminal. And now
that I’m starting to see the possibilities of what could be I don’t think I
will take no for an answer very well.

I’m surprised when I hear rushed footsteps behind me. I turn
to find Lin haphazardly dressed. She bites her bottom lip. “Why do I feel like
everything is crashing down?”

“I think we’re at an impasse. Again.”

“Why can’t we just have a normal relationship?”

“I’m not normal.”

“Are you still escorting me to the museum?”

Her question is like a cold dousing of water in my face. I
am again civilized George. “I will pick you up at your loft.”

I’m standing on the curb before I even realize I’m outside.
Does the woman not comprehend that she is making me mental? The dream she
offered is so real in my mind—a home, a family—but impossible. I am Doctor
Psycho, and the sooner she accepts that the sooner we can let go of each other.

My cell vibrates and I answer it, expecting it to be Lin. It
isn’t. The floor nurse at the hospital explains that they are weaning Gigi off
the respirator and her fears are interfering with the process. I close my eyes,
knowing she is asking if I will come.

This isn’t my responsibility.

I agree to come right away but stop at the dry cleaners
because it is on the way. I am dreading going into the hospital, dreading
seeing Gigi, but that makes no sense.

It is less than a half hour later that I am standing in the
doorway to her room, listening as the doctor explains what he is going to do. A
privacy curtain stands between us and she isn’t aware I am here.

She gags.

“Just take a deep breath and relax,” the doctor says.

I hold my breath, waiting as she sputters.

“Don’t try to talk,” an unseen nurse admonishes.

“There, perfect. You are breathing on your own.”

I can hear her crying and my inclination is to go to her and
comfort her, but I make myself stay in the hallway.
My being here will serve
no good purpose.

The doctor explains that relearning to swallow will be
difficult, water is the hardest, but that he has every confidence she can do
it.

I hear the squeak of a marker on whiteboard. The nurse says,
“George? Yes, Mr. Kirkpatrick was called.”

I turn around and leave the hospital. Gigi needs a white
knight and I’m not it. I’m not sure what I am but hero isn’t even close. I
never was her hero.

Outside the hospital, I sit on a park bench under a shade
tree. Staring out over the meditation garden, I hope for answers but none are
forthcoming.

Why Gigi? Why now?

Why Lin?

Neither woman belongs in my life, yet I want them both right
smack-dab in the middle of it. I’ve never been so off-kilter. I know the
problem. Too much change too quickly. I’m not comfortable or confident in any
of the roles I’m trying to play.

Damn Garrett. And Celia. And Thomas.

Damn everyone.

I’m having quite the pity party for myself when I realize I
should have already left for home to change for Lin’s event. I end up changing
in the parking lot, sans black patent leather oxfords still on my shoe rack at
home. So I’m a fashion statement in my white leather K-Swiss tennis shoes.

I am not the kind of person who is ever late—but that’s
exactly what I am. Maybe Lin won’t notice the shoes.

When I pull up to the curb outside Lin’s studio, she is
already waiting. I hurry to open the door for her. “You look amazing.”

She turns in a circle to show off the sultry sway of her
beaded chiffon gown. Backless, it is a rich, golden yellow that brightens her
skin. Her hair is upswept and secured with sparkling crystals. I drop a kiss on
her sun-warmed shoulder and note that her skin has been dusted with a fine,
powdery glitter.

“Have you been waiting long?” I see her gaze drop to my feet
but she doesn’t mention my shoes. She does suppress a chuckle. That’s okay,
humor is good, so long as she’s not embarrassed to be seen with me.

“No, not long. I couldn’t wait inside another moment.” With
a big smile she slides gracefully into the car and buckles her seat belt. “I’m
so nervous! I’ve never been honored for anything before, and this is so big.”

Her facial expression makes me laugh as I clamber in beside
her awkwardly. It seems like such a long time since I’ve felt light and free
enough to…laugh…and even in our most desperate moments together I feel better
around her than I have in years.

“I am glad you are still willing to escort me—since I’ve
been so difficult.”

I take her hand and feel that she is shaking. “You know,
when I’m with a new submissive, there is no more enticing scent than the smell
of her fear, there is no sweeter feeling than to hold her trembling against me.
Without even trying, you shoot me to the moon.”

She smiles shyly at me, using our clasped hands to shield
most of her face.

“What?”

“You always say such outlandish things. You embarrass me.”

I chuckle, not laughing at her but feeling happy as I buckle
my belt, shift into gear and pull into traffic. We are both silent for the
drive, her sifting nervously through notecards, me with my mind on trying to
figure out what I can do to make a life together with Lin a reality.

I pull up to the curb for the special events valet parking
and Lin looks out through the window at the architecturally beautiful building.
Spotlights brighten the façade. “Oh! We’re here too quickly. I don’t know half
of my speech. I’ll be so embarrassed.”

Exiting the car, I walk around to take her arm and escort
her in. “You are going to be brilliant. Right now just focus on being the woman
of the hour.”

Walking up to the entrance, I am assailed by memories past,
when I was the man being honored—the psychiatrist—and am assaulted by a momentary
melancholy. I’ve never allowed myself the luxury of feeling sorry for myself. I
just picked up the pieces and kept moving. Until now I haven’t cared if another
human being ever looked at me with pride. I like how it feels to walk beside
Lin, feeling proud of her for her accomplishment and sad because I fear she
will never feel such an emotion with me.

Lin

It’s my night. It’s my night. It’s my night.
No
matter how many times I repeat the words in my head, I still feel lacking. I’ve
fought so hard for my art to be recognized and now that it is, I don’t feel
like I should be here. It doesn’t help that I can’t stop thinking about
George—as Doctor Psycho—and wondering what kinky things he might do to me if
I’d only allow it.
What is wrong with me?

What seems like a million flashing strobes leaves me
momentarily blinded and clutching George’s arm as I make my grand entrance.
Oh
God!
I forgot about the cameras. What if the newspaper publishes that my
escort is George Kirkpatrick? Will everyone associate the name with Doctor
Psycho?
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!

“Are you all right? You’re pale as a ghost.” George leads me
away from the crowd and the journalists.

“The cameras. I’m being ridiculous.”

“You’re worried about being photographed with me?”

“You don’t understand! This is a disaster.” Too late I
realize I’ve hurt George’s feelings.

“I’ll go.”

“The damage is done. No point abandoning me now.”

I’m surprised when he glares at me. I glare back; after all
I’m the injured party here. A moment later he is storming away, and I am left
in a deserted hallway.

“Perfect, just perfect.”

Why didn’t I consider the worst case scenario before it
happened?

Suddenly my irritation is interrupted by the sound of a
woman giggling. I look around but see no one. Has someone already recognized
George as Doctor Psycho? Have they made assumptions about who I am? Guilty by
association. If he is a sexual deviant, I must be too. Is that it?

The giggle is replaced by a moan, and I am suddenly
concerned that foul play is underfoot. The sounds stop and my curiosity leads
me toward a darkened alcove. A man and woman are cast in shadow, and it becomes
obvious quickly that the two are having sex. Both standing, he has her lifted
and pressed into a wall. The woman’s legs wrap around his waist.

I shouldn’t be watching.

Oh my!

They reach a strained climax, and I imagine they are trying
to be quiet.

I can’t look away. I’m beyond mesmerized. It dawns on me
that I’m growing horny watching their erotic tryst. Suddenly I realize the
woman is watching
me
. My pussy clenches at the realization and a hungry
need like I’ve never known before races up my spine.

“We have an audience,” she says.

The man looks over his shoulder and in profile I see that he
is Asian. His deep, rumbling chuckle breaks the awkward silence, and I realize
who he is.
I know him.
I mean know him-know him. We’ve had sex. More
than once. Always like a hit and run. We seem to travel the same circles. I
think he too is an artist, or a collector, but I’m not certain. Really, I can’t
even say for sure that his name is Johnny—that’s what I call him, but honestly
I know absolutely nothing about him. He winks at me and, not knowing what else
to do, I run away.
Oh God!

I am panting by the time I reach the main gallery, and
George catches my ungraceful arrival. I’m so happy that he didn’t leave I throw
my arms around his neck.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m so glad you didn’t leave. I didn’t want you to go.”

“I didn’t know what I should do.”

“Stay, please stay.” I meet George’s gaze. I feel flushed
and flustered as he wraps an arm around my shoulder. I hope he can’t feel my
racing heart. I don’t know what to think or say and standing in such close
proximity—in the aroused state I’m in—seems like a disaster waiting to happen.
Wanting to drag him into a darkened alcove, I pull away from him to keep from
doing just that. I’m sending mixed signals and his confusion is evident. I
think I’m losing my mind.
Oh shit.
My name is being announced from the
podium. “I have to go to the stage.”

“Lin?”

“Can we talk when I’m through?”
What if Johnny sees that
I am with George and tells him about our trysts before I can properly explain?
“Promise
me you won’t leave! No matter what, okay?”

I hurry away from him but glance over my shoulder to make
sure he isn’t going.

All through the ceremony, I can hardly concentrate. I keep
searching the audience for Johnny but I don’t see him. I should have considered
he might be here. If I had came here alone, I might have been the one with my
legs wrapped around his waist. A quickie before the presentation. It is all I
can do to stay composed and not giggle hysterically. I deserve this, don’t I?
For being so damn judgmental of George.

* * * * *

When the final sculpture is unveiled I am free to leave the
stage. Mix and mingle. George draws me like a moth to a flame. He is holding
two glasses of champagne and hands me one. I down the glass of bubbling amber
in a single swallow, then trade him my empty for his full glass and down it as
well.

“I’m a slut.”
Oh God! Why did I just say that?

“Maybe we should find someplace where we can talk quietly?”

I nod.
Please. Take me away from here.
But George
doesn’t head for the exit. Too late I realize he has pushed us deep into the
middle of the dance floor.

“Dance with me?”

I just admitted to the man I love that I am a slut and he
wants to dance? He whisks me into a waltz, and I find myself enjoying dancing
in spite of the seriousness of the conversation we need to have. George is an
amazing dancer, which only means we dance well together. So many men have tried
to dance with me and left me with bruised toes. It’s a relief to find a man who
can handle himself on the dance floor.

“I should have told you the truth,” I admit.

“What truth?”

I lean nearer, whispering, “I think I’m a nymphomaniac.”

George tries hard to control his facial expression but I
know he is laughing at me as we wind around the room, weaving expertly around
the other dancers.

“After my husband died—I went a little crazy.”

He arches a brow.

“I fucked a lot of men.”
So many that there isn’t a man
of Chinese descent in all of California who will even consider me.

“I don’t think that makes you a nymphomaniac.”

“A slut at least.”

“By whose definition?”

I’m growing frustrated and stumble. George pulls me closer,
covering my disastrous dance moves with his own perfection.

“What happened when I left you alone in that hallway?”

“I saw a man and a woman fucking. I recognized the man as
someone I’ve
been with
before.” I meet George’s gaze and realize he
isn’t judging me, but then, why would he? If anyone would fall under the label
of promiscuous, a professional Dominant would surely fit the bill. “Why aren’t
you furious?”

“You’re a sexually active single woman. Why would I be?”

He nuzzles my neck, kissing, biting. I can feel my blood
starting to boil in my veins. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Watching that man and woman made you horny?”

“Watching them made me wish it was you and I in that
alcove.”

Pulling away, he looks down into my face. “It’s always the
quiet ones who take me by surprise.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“Never,” he says solemnly. “Show me this hiding place.”

I give him a look to see if he’s serious, and obviously he
is. “Now?”

“Right now.”

If I thought I was aroused a moment ago…

With a spin and a slide George leads me off the dance floor
and through the side exit. Alone in the dimly lit hallway, I giggle. I can’t
believe we’re doing this. He finds a recessed section, not the one previously
used by Johnny, and pushes me back against the wall. There is no rambunctious
tearing at clothing as I expected. Hoped. Indeed, George seems fairly
restrained. He searches my face, maybe thinking I have changed my mind, but I
haven’t. The thrill of being so close to fucking, potentially being caught, has
me needier than I can ever remember being.

He caresses both sides of my face. “Have you ever had sex in
a public place?”

“No.” My heart is pounding so hard I’m almost certain it can
be heard in the next room. I start to ask “have you” but realize how stupid
that is. Of course he has. When we went to the club I saw enough to know that
nudity and sex were casual events that happened spontaneously.

“What has you so aroused? The thought of being seen? Or the
thought that if you had attended this event without me it might have been you
and the stranger swapping body fluids in open view?”

I try to pull away, believing he has no intention of
seducing me, but he pivots me quickly and tells me to place my hands on the
carved threshold. I’m left looking out into the hallway we just ducked in from.
It is empty. I gasp when I feel him shimmy my dress up in the back. “What are
you doing?”

“Exposing your ass.”

My long dress is hiked up, my panties are pulled down and I
feel as though my heart will surely explode. The cool air traveling across my
bare bottom leaves me shaking. “W-what if someone sees?”

Molding against my side, he whispers, “Isn’t that the
point?”

“No!”

“Then what?”

“The secrecy of it. The naughtiness.”

“Is that what I am, sweetheart? Your naughty little secret?
Dating the baddest boy in town a turn-on for you?”

He slides his hand over my ass, the heat coming off his palm
seeming scorching. I back up into the weight of it. “Y-you’re not so bad.”

“Do you know how badly I want to spank you right now?”

Spank me?
Not finger me or fuck me but
spank me?
I close my eyes. Why do I keep forgetting that he’s a sadist? “Not here.”

“Not never,” he says, “just not here?”

Dear Lord, what he does to me.
“I can’t think
properly around you.”

“I could spank you for being such a naughty little slut.”

My knees buckle, and he holds me steady. He rubs his hand in
a slow circle over my right cheek. He taps it lightly, and the sound created by
his palm barely smacking my ass seems to echo off the marble walls.

“Oh God. Please don’t. Not here,” I beg.

“At home?”

“Yes,” I agree. Right now I’d agree to anything. In the
distance I can hear whistling. “Someone’s coming.”

“Perfect.” He slides a finger deep into my pussy and starts
massaging my G-spot. Oh no! Not that. The last time he did this…

He hits the perfect spot inside me and bliss arches my
spine. “Oh God!”

He fucks me hard and fast, hitting the spot again and again.

“I’m coming!”

“Yes, baby. Come now. Come hard.”

I can feel the wetness on my thighs. I’m squirting and there’s
nothing I can do about it. “God, George, please stop! I’m so embarrassed. I’m
making a mess!”

The whistling grows louder and I see a security guard
coming. I fly backward, out of sight, pushing George with me. I’m so terrified
that the guard saw me, must have guessed what we were doing. I’m shaking hard
and panting when George readjusts my clothing and pulls me into his arms.

I don’t even pull down my own dress. George does it for me.

“Shhh,” he whispers against my face. “Shhh.”

* * * * *

We didn’t get caught, but we did have to sneak out through
the back exit. The front of my dress is soaked through and wet chiffon shows
everything
.
I am mortified the valet will notice and think I pissed myself. I use George as
a shield and believe he finds humor in the situation. “You have to stop doing
that!”

“That?” he asks, sounding too amused as he opens my car door
for me. The valet hustles to the next waiting patrons.

“You know what that.”

“Say it.” He pulls me against him. “Say ‘squirting’.”

“I can’t.” I look over my shoulder to make certain no one
heard him.

“Say it.”

“Squirting.”

He crushes his mouth to mine, assaulting me with his teeth
and tongue. I think I will be bruised but as the onslaught continues, stealing
my breath and all cognitive thought, I don’t care. I kiss him back with an
equal brutality. I feel like an animal caged too long finally set free. George
is the one setting me free.

He says roughly against my face, “Tell me you like it when I
make you squirt.”

“I don’t,” I deny, but I know he knows it’s a lie because my
body responds to just the word.

“It makes you feel dirty? Used? But that only makes it more
exciting when it happens?”

“I like being in control. I’m not in control when
that
happens.”

“Say the word, Lin.”

I duck my face, burying it against his shoulder. I whisper,
“I’m not able to control my body, I can’t prevent myself from—squirting.”

He slaps my ass.

“Ouch.” I realize half a dozen people or so saw him do it,
but they can’t hear what we are saying to each other because they are too far
away. Still, they saw! I climb into the passenger seat, but I’m shaking so
badly I can’t fasten my belt and George has to do it for me when he’s settled
himself.

As we drive down the freeway, he asks, “Are you afraid of
me?”

I shake my head. I don’t know what I am, but scared isn’t
it. I’d say aroused, but how could I admit that? “I was terrified we were
caught.”

“We shouldn’t have stopped. I wasn’t finished.”

“I was.”

“I wanted to slide my dick inside you. I wanted to fuck you
while you worried that the guard might start poking his head into the shadowed
places.”

“He could have arrested us for indecency.”

George shifts gears and accelerates. He’s smiling like a kid
in a candy store.

“Why does the thought of being arrested make you so damn
happy?”

“It doesn’t. I finally figured out your kink. You’re an
exhibitionist.”