I’d been tied up before—of course I had. But not by a Shibari master. When I’d had ropes around me in the past, it was meant to be bondage. I wasn’t supposed to be able to escape. This man could still move if he wanted. He wasn’t restricted at all. I wondered what it felt like to be so expertly wrapped up in cords and yet not be shackled. What it felt like to be bound, yet still be able to move freely.
There was something beautiful about it. Something that made my eyes sting. Something that made me think about the couple long after the show was over and other entertainment had taken the main spotlight.
An hour passed. The crowd got wilder. The kink got naughtier. The scent of sex grew stronger as each minute passed, the ache between my legs spreading up into my belly. As the night slipped further into itself I worried I’d missed my chance.
It was close to midnight when he finally arrived.
My prince.
He wore a mask, but I knew it was him. I recognized everything about his body, from his bearded jaw to the sculpted frame underneath his tuxedo. My chest tightened as soon as I saw him, and I had to hold myself back so I didn’t leap into his arms. He wasn’t mine. He didn’t come here just to be adored by me. I had to remind myself of that, that these parties were for all of us.
He made eye contact with me though, and I knew from the way he met my gaze that I was still the Only One in the Room for him.
It occurred to me that he might be the Only One in the Room for me too, even with all the other players around us.
The realization was staggering, but it wasn’t like I could just announce it. Not in a room full of men I anonymously served in other ways Monday through Friday.
So as I’d done all night, I waited.
When a game with a young mistress finished, Nate surprised me and took center floor. “Whoever here gives me the best kiss,” he said, circling the room, his eyes scanning over both the ladies and the men, “will get the present that’s in my pocket.”
There was already a line of people, brushing close to him, eager to try out his lips, certain that the present in his pocket was probably a turn with his cock. Who wouldn’t want to adore the cock of this magnificent man? For those who had seen it, they knew it was glorious. For those who hadn’t, it was a mystery they were more than ready to solve.
I watched as he gave kiss after kiss, my belly tightening, my blood humming. I watched as women came up with bare chests and grabbed his hand to grope their breasts as they slipped him their tongues. I watched as a young man pushed him back onto a chair and straddled his lap so he could dominate him with a French kiss.
I was completely wet after that particular scene.
Finally, when the line had dwindled and there was no one else in front of Nate, I stood up. “I’d like a turn,” I said, like he’d said that first night, when he’d still been a stranger.
He gave me a nod, his sexy grin just barely perceptible underneath his beard.
I took off my dress and stood in front of the crowd wearing only my garter and bra. Then I fell to my knees, and I crawled to him on all fours, slowly. Intently. Crawled the way he deserved to be crawled to after the shitty way I’d acted.
When I got to his chair, I laid my head on his knee, and suddenly, my chest felt heavy, like I was wearing a corset and the strings were too tight. My eyes began to water. “I don’t even know if you want me,” I whispered.
He pulled me into his lap. “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”
I climbed up tentatively and straddled him much the way the dominating man had, but my kiss was gentle, reverent. Pleading. It was a kiss that asked. A kiss that negotiated. A kiss that split the difference between his wants and mine, without even saying a word.
When I was done, I pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “I don’t want to make any assumptions,” I said, repeating the words he’d said to me the last time we’d seen each other.
“Assume,” he said, cutting me off.
I hesitated only a second. “Okay. Then, I assume what’s in your pocket is mine.”
“You bet it is, baby.” He stood up, taking me with him. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private. I have some things to say before I give it to you.”
Someone in the crowd made a joke about him giving it to me, and somebody else booed because they hadn’t been the winner. But pretty soon everyone moved on to their next activity and forgot all about Nate and his pocket and his game.
He set me on my feet and took my hand, and led me to a bedroom that was probably off limits—but who even cared about rules at the moment? Certainly not I.
I fell into his arms. “I missed you,” I said before he had a chance to say anything else, before my anxiety had a chance to take over and my doubts prevented me from getting it off my chest. I peered at him through the holes in my mask. “I don’t want to...not see you so much. Is that something you might want too?”
“I would very much like to see you more,” he said, his hand cradling my face. “Look, Trish. I heard you the other night. I listened and I understand. I’m sure that there have been a lot of people who’ve wanted to tie you down. It’s hard to see something as amazingly free as you are and not want to capture it. Trust me when I say I know what people will do to get their hands on rare art.”
I kept my eyes steady on his, unsure where he was going or if he really did understand me, or if all this was leading to why my version of a happy ending didn’t match his.
“I get you, babe. Because I’ve never wanted to be tied down either. And I would never dream of taking anything away from you. I don’t want to imprison you. I want to fly with you.” He dropped his hand from my face so he could push his mask off his own. “Look, I know what I want. But more importantly, I know what I don’t want. And I don’t want to be looking for some elusive ideal either. I’m forty-five years old, Trish. I don’t want to fly alone for the rest of my life. I want to know that there’s someone to fly with. I want that person to be you. I think that person was maybe always you.”
Again, my eyes teared up. Good thing I was wearing a mask and no one could see.
Except then, Nate slipped my mask up on top of my head and wiped the stray tear from my cheek. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny box, rectangular shaped, not the kind that fit a ring—thank God. The kind that maybe fit...a pin?
I frowned, puzzled as I took it from him. “What is it?”
“Open it. Find out.”
Tentatively, I unwrapped the bow and slid off the lid. Inside, there were two keys, not matching. One, though, looked oddly familiar. Like the key to get into the building of my apartment.
I peered up at him questioningly.
“I rented the unit next door to you. For now, it’s off the market. If everything works out, I’ll buy it.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You Annie Leibovitz’d me?”
“I’m certainly trying.”
I pulled the keys from the box, looked at them, and handed them over, because they didn’t belong to me. They belonged to him. Just like a part of me belonged to him.