WanttoGoPrivate (8 page)

“I hope you found that rewarding, babe. Because it didn’t do
a fucking thing for me.”

Stunned, she watched him walk away. She heard the distant
slam of a door and flinched, her wet nether region rubbing against the seat of
the stool in a manner that had her on her feet in a heartbeat. She pulled her
thong back into place and yanked her skirt down, the heat of embarrassment
flooding her face. It wasn’t how she should feel, not after
that
.
Disappointment and something that resembled shame weren’t meant to be part of
the afterglow.

The fact that he was dissatisfied hurt, but the callousness
of his words sparked a different emotion. He’d called her
babe
for god’s
sake. He knew how impersonal that was. What kind of way was that to treat
someone you supposedly wanted to be with?

He doesn’t want to date you, Izzi. He wants to be your
Dom. Big difference.

But that still didn’t allow for humiliating her. They’d
covered that in their talks as well. Humiliation wasn’t one of her turn-ons.

“Well screw you, Chris Greene.” She stalked across the room
and grabbed her sweater and her purse out of the booth where she’d left them.

You told him you didn’t want the screwing part, remember?
Everything was supposed to be of a tutorial nature. Exploration. Enlightenment—

“Oh shut the hell up,” she muttered, heading back to the bar
and grabbing a cocktail napkin. She rummaged in her purse for a pen and jotted
him a short and to-the-point, two-sentence “fuck you”.

* * * * *

Chris stood, straight arming the wall of the office as he
counted to fifty, inhaling and exhaling at each increment of five, until his
breathing returned to normal. He stared at the faux grain of the ancient wood
paneling and shook his head.

He’d been so damn pissed when she walked in wearing that
outfit. Every guy there had turned and stared as she bounded up to the bar to
say hello to him before grabbing a booth for her and her two girlfriends.
Disobeying from day one was not what he had anticipated. Not from their chats.
She’d seemed so pliable, so willing to accept his suggestions.

But then she’d misbehaved and his need to remedy that,
coupled with the fact the dearth of customers had forced him to let the wait
staff go home early, overrode his well-laid plan. No, if Karma wasn’t a bitch,
he’d have slid into the booth when her BFFs departed and told her he was the
Master. That he was the one giving her all the sound advice while exploring the
degree to which her kink factor came into play.

But in the blink of an eye, it’d been the two of them, him
with the power to clear and close the place, and Isabel walking across the
floor toward him, those hot legs stuffed into the even hotter boots. He’d done
what he could. He’d improvised.

“Call me the fuckin’ MacGyver of bondage,” he mumbled,
threading his fingers through his hair. He had already called the taxi for
Elaine and keeping Isabel right where she was had seemed the perfect solution.
His goal had been to slowly tease her but then her damn scent had worked its
way into his system and straight to his dick and all he could think about was
the fact she’d have to taste as good as she smelled. As sweet as the wetness
making her pussy glisten.

“Shit. What the hell happened to your control, dickwad?” He
hadn’t been that unfocused since the early days of his training. He stared at
the closed door and knew for a fact she wouldn’t be out there waiting for him.
If she were, he’d think a great deal less of her. She was a strong woman and
that held a great deal of appeal. Unless he misread her, and he was certain he
hadn’t, she wouldn’t be waiting to apologize, even if she recognized myriad
things she had done wrong from a prospective-sub standpoint.

Chris made his way out of the office, into the empty bar and
walked straight to the door and locked it. His hunches were correct. All that
remained was whether she’d talk to him again. Whether she’d have the balls to
walk in the door for the next hockey game. Or if she’d actually contact him
online. He doubted that would be the case.

He went to the cash register, ready to empty it when the
note caught his eye.

You’re
a tool. Never call me a slut again.

“Duly noted, Izzi.” He laughed, his spirits rising. A “tool”
wasn’t as bad as it could have been. And “again”…well, that just held all sorts
of hope for another chance. And one more chance was all he needed.

Chapter Five

“I think you should give him another chance.”

Isabel ignored Lucy and struggled to get the balloon onto
the air valve of the helium tank. Twenty down…another forty to go.

“Give me that,” Lucy said. “You must totally suck at putting
on condoms.” The young woman had the balloon on the valve filled and tied in
five seconds flat. With a smug look she handed it to Isabel and waited for her
to attach the glittery pink string.

Isabel paid no heed to the comment or the look, wondering
what had prompted her to share a few details about her public display of lack
of decorum. She hadn’t mentioned names and she sure as hell hadn’t mentioned
the masturbation portion of her evening’s entertainment, but she’d brought up
the fact a friend element was in play and that he had pushed her to the point
that she let her temper rise. Then felt bad after.

She didn’t have to tell her friend that the whole event made
her reevaluate her reactions and expectations. Lucy had come up with that
kernel of knowledge on her own, perceptive twenty-six-year-old that she was.

“You’re still pissed and it was four days ago. As my Mima
used to say, ‘shit or get off the pot, Missy’.”

“Classy woman, your Mima,” Isabel replied, wondering why the
Tri-County Diabetes Foundation’s annual fundraiser, which was slated to start
in less than four hours, wasn’t diverting her from thoughts of Chris. Activity
buzzed around them as the volunteers worked to get table decorations just right
and gift bags in order and, for once, Isabel felt good about delegating and not
interfering with the people she had put in charge. In fact, it was the first
time she hadn’t spearheaded the entire event, just stepped in and volunteered
for the decorating committee and nothing more.

“She was that and more,” Lucy replied. “As soon as we’re
done, let’s head up to the suite and get ready. If we stay down here, you’ll be
tempted to step in and help, I just know it. And who doesn’t want a go at that
awesome shower?”

Isabel laughed. She’d seen showers much bigger and five
times more opulent but the suite that had been donated for the volunteers’
convenience was beautiful and much appreciated.

“Jennifer still won’t tell who sprung for it, but they’ll be
here tonight she said. Guess they had a family member who had Type Two. She
said their loved one passed away just last year so it’s a new donor.”

“New blood is always good but never at that cost. As for
stepping in, I have moments of thinking I’m totally burned out,” Isabel
admitted.

“Well, that’s nothing a hot, forbidden love affair won’t
cure. One with a guy friend who seems
waaaaaay
off-limits. Just sayin’.”

“Speaking from experience, Lucy?”

“More times than I care to remember,” she admitted. “And
still friends with them all.”

“That’s amazing,” Isabel said. She reached out a hand,
waiting for Lucy to give her the last balloon but the girl brought it to her
lips and inhaled deeply then put her hands on her hips.

“Totally doable, so don’t let that be a deterrent where your
guy is concerned.
Heeheeheehee.
”

Isabel shook her head and laughed, maybe she needed to be a
little more carefree. Which would probably entail getting in touch with Chris
sometime soon and asking if they could talk.

“Come on, duckie.” She looped her arm through Lucy’s. “Let’s
grab a couple pinots and waddle on up to the room and you can soak to your
heart’s content. We have until five thirty, when housekeeping comes in to clean
up before the mystery patrons arrive.”

“And what are you going to be doing since your hair and
makeup are already fabulous?”

“I think I need to send an email.”

“To him?” she asked expectantly.

“To him,” Isabel replied.

“Yay!” Lucy said, clapping her hands. “This is going to be
epic.”

Epic was not the word Isabel was thinking of. Not by a long
shot.

* * * * *

Chris stared at the email and weighed his options.

I’d like to see you. So we can
talk.

This could definitely go one of two ways, both of which he’d
make sure ended with Isabel screaming his name. He had known she wouldn’t show
up at the bar, that would have been too easy. He also knew she was probably
struggling with her emotions and that was perfectly normal. But as of this
morning, he was pretty certain he was going to have to reconsider his stance on
waiting for her to come to him.

His cell rang and he looked at the number, not surprised to
find Larry was saving him from making the call. The guy did have a sixth sense.

“Hey, Larry.”

“Whoa, you sound pretty damn happy. What the hell’s changed
in the last three hours?”

Chris chuckled. “I need a favor.”

“Right. That doesn’t answer my question at all, and what is
this now? Favor number four? Or is it five?”

“Are you really keeping track?”

“You’re damn right I am. What’s the damage going to be this
time?”

“A key to that suite you rented for the night. And the
particulars of when everyone is going to be out of there.”

“Dude, you can’t be my date anymore, I’m taking Alexandra.”

“She leaving the latex cat suit at home?”

“She cleans up nicely, I’ll have you know.”

“You planning on using the room later tonight?” Chris heard
the anticipation in his voice and made an effort to temper his tone.

“Not the whole night. I was thinking about a possible
after-party hot-tubathon, what are you thinking?”

“I had a text from Isabel.”

“And?”

“And she wants to talk.”

“Oookay. She wants to talk. And how does this affect me?”

“She’s going to be there tonight. I was thinking there’s got
to be a way for you to get her back to the room. I’ll take care of everything
from there.”

“You don’t think it might be wise to just return her call.
The whole ‘get her back to the room’ screams of a possible disaster waiting to
happen since you two have absolutely no firm understanding of what she wants.”

“I know what she wants. And I can give it to her.”

“Really, Chris? You think you’re that intuitive after a
little light bondage and a get-yourself-off moment? Last time I looked, that
minor in psychology didn’t make you an authority.”

“Are you going to help me or not, Larry? That’s all I need
to know.”

“Okay, okay. Take it easy. I told the hotel to give out four
keys and leave a fifth one at the desk for me. I can forgo a trip back to the
room after the party, if that’s what you need. I don’t know how you think
you’re going to get her back to the room, though.”

“I was hoping you might help me with that. Now that I know
Alex will be with you, I’m feeling a lot more confident. She’s a consummate
player and a great actress.”

“You’re not planning anything crazy, are you? Because I have
to draw the line at the maids finding Isabel naked and tied to the bed tomorrow
morning, especially with my name on the room reservation and I’m making a
donation
in my Mom’s memory.”

“I give you my word. If they find her naked the next
morning, I’ll be with her.”

“So you two have decided on a sex-included relationship?”

Chris didn’t answer and the silence stretched to the point
of discomfort. He heard Larry’s heavy sigh.

“Dude, this is not going to end well.”

“Yes, it is. I know what she wants.”

“Bullshit. You know what
you
want and when the hell
did that include throwing a fuck into your sub du jour?”

“Let it go, Larry. Are you going to help me or not?”

“Of course I am. And I think we can start the repayment with
free Jameson for a month and the promise of a beginner’s bondage workshop at
the club.”

“Done,” Chris readily replied. “Want to throw out a
suggestion or two on what time I should be there? And how I’ll get in the room.
And how we’ll get Isabel up there?”

“Not asking for much are you?” Larry replied, but the
excitement was evident in his voice. The man enjoyed a challenge more than
Chris. “Let me brainstorm with the lovely Mistress Alex. We’ll come up with
something and I’ll call you back. It’ll be stealthy for sure. We’ll get her up
there. The rest will be all you.”

* * * * *

“Isabel? A moment, please?”

Isabel spun around, a polite smile curving her lips as she
faced Mrs. Wolcroft. The older woman was a bastion of the arts and a person who
Isabel genuinely liked.

“Allow me to introduce Lawrence Polino and his guest,
Alexandra Helton. He’s the one who generously provided the suite for our
volunteers.”

Socially adept person that she was, Isabel mentally gave
herself credit for the unwavering grin she offered to the man who had seen her
bound to the beer tap only a few nights prior.

“Mr. Polino. A pleasure,” she said, extending her hand.

“Larry. I believe we’ve met before. I think it was at On The
Left. I’m a frequent customer when I’m able to get away from work. It’s nice to
see you again. Alex, darling, this is the woman I was telling you about.”

Isabel’s smile faltered as she looked upward into the
woman’s dark-brown eyes and accepted her hand, surprised by the strong grip
that enveloped her fingers.

“Isabel. Lovely.” The woman’s gaze drifted from the top of
Isabel’s head to her feet, lingering there until Isabel was compelled to shift
her weight. “I adore those shoes. Ferragamo?”