Chambers of Desire: Opus 1 (11 page)

“More than you know,” I answered. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been here just a little too long.” We walked to the car in silence, and I wished I was already back in my hotel bed, curled up in my pajamas. The party had been fine, but I still didn’t get why I’d been sent at all, and why Du Cheval had abandoned me.

“Congratulations,” Du Cheval said, as we both buckled our seat belts. “You passed. Assuming you do want to stay and pursue this arrangement further.”

I looked at him. “What?” I knew whatever he meant was the answer to why I’d been made to jump through this hoop, but I really didn’t get it.  Why would a three-week hook-up—one Calvin had
paid for—
have to socialize with his colleagues?

“The team’s resident Abercrombie model wannabe,” Du Cheval said dismissively.  “The bait.  You didn’t take it.”

“The bait.” I repeated back, the full implication dawning on me. “Logan. Logan was bait.”

Some of the indignation I’d finally learned to express began to rise up. 

“That was planned?”
I asked, my voice rising slightly.  Well, I’d had good reason not to be angry at Logan for taking a shot at me.
His boss had requested it. 

“Calvin
can be unpredictable,” Du Cheval said, ignoring the incensed tone of my voice.  Business as usual, apparently, for him.

“By fucking testing me?” I was furious. “Is this a joke? Are you telling me that this whole night, this whole party, was one big test?”

Du Cheval shrugged. “There’s no reason to get upset,” he said, and he really did seem nonplussed by my anger. “After all, you passed. If this changes your attitude, you can just back out of the arrangement.” “You think I’m overreacting over being tested like a trained animal?” I asked. 

Du Cheval glanced at me impatiently in the rearview mirror. “I told you Chambers is thorough and doesn’t tolerate mediocrity. Disobedience is a type of mediocrity. So is a lack of self-control.  You may be offended, but he leaves nothing to chance..”

“And what sort of man is that?” I asked.
Please, enlighten me, Oliver.

“A man with unconventional needs and the resources to see them met.  He won’t waste his time if he’s not going to get what he wants, from you or anyone else, regardless of how… unusual… his wants may be,” Du Cheval said.

Wow, you’ve gone talkative on me, Du Cheval,
I thought.
May as well keep asking as long as he’s in the mood—finally—to answer some questions.

“Unusual?” I asked
.

Du Cheval shot me a look beyond impatient.  “Surely you did actually
read
the contract you signed, Ms. Clarke.”

Guess question and answer time is over.

“I…” The truth was, I
hadn’t
actually read it all. Calvin and I had discussed his terms thoroughly and I hadn’t thought there’d be any surprises.

Maybe I hadn’t sobered up as much as I thought because my anger at being toyed with came rolling back full force. 

“I know you have a copy of that contract,
Mister
Du Cheval.  I want to see it right now.”

Without responding he handed back a leather binder.

I snatched the binder from his hand and pulled the contract out to study it.

By signing this agreement, the above party agrees to participate in a variety of sexual practices, including, but not limited to
domination, foot fetishism restraint, and/or bondage.

“Bondage?” I asked.

“Bondage,” Du Cheval said calmly, as if I should have known.

“I didn’t agree to
any
of this!” I was on the verge of hysteria. The bastard tricked me!

“You did agree to it,” Du Cheval countered. “When you signed the contract.” His voice was irritatingly calm, which only contributed to my rage.

“No! No, no, no! Get Calvin on the phone,” I yelled. First, the test, and then
this
! All that business about nothing until I felt ready, but no mention of ordering subordinates to try and seduce me and bondage?!

Du Cheval shook his head. “You can speak to Mr. Chambers when you see him in the morning.”

He pulled the car into the valet of the hotel. “I’ll be back at nine a.m.”

”Oh, no way, buddy,” I said, marginally aware at Du Cheval’s surprise at being addressed as ‘buddy.’ “Not a chance in hell.
Get him on the phone,
” I repeated slowly.

Silence from the driver’s seat.

“No? Fine. I’ll call him myself.” I did have his private line. “I’m sure he loves it when you let drunk, angry women call him without warning.” I was satisfied when I saw Du Cheval twitch slightly.

“I will inform him that you wish to meet with him,” he said, and it sounded like it came through gritted teeth.

“How convenient,” I said. “Thank you.”

Du Cheval sighed in exasperation and turned the key in the ignition. “I am not paid enough to argue with hysterical drunks,” he muttered. I didn’t care what he thought of me—only that I had a chance to confront that manipulative asshole, Calvin Chambers.

My anger only grew as we sped toward his house, and I practiced what I would say to him.  I slipped off the stilettos as soon as I got out of the car, figuring breaking an ankle rushing in would ruin the effect. I stomped barefoot through the front door, carrying the stilettos in one hand and let it slam
Probably in his office,
I thought. 

He was sitting at his desk, pretending not to notice me. Was he angry? Was I angry? Suddenly I was unsure, tired, confused. 
Oh, NOW I’m sobering up.
I felt my stomach twist as he put down the paper he was reading.

“Calvin, look at me!” I didn’t try to raise my voice, but it happened, anyway. I meant to sound commanding but it came out desperate. 
Look at me,
I thought.
Why would a man like him have bid 3 million dollars on this mess?
Then I remembered Logan and pushing him away and the whole stupid night, and I didn’t care how ridiculous I sounded. He paid for my virginity… not to treat me like a pawn in a some stupid game.  “What?” His voice was ice, but he did turn to look at me. I didn’t give myself time to regret it. If I hesitated, I would fall into the cracks opening under my feet. I had to keep running forward, or I would be swallowed by fear.

“Don’t you
what
me! Who do you think you are?” I yelled. “What gives you the right to play games with people like that? And what the fuck was the point about meeting with me about the terms of the contract and then sneaking in a bunch of weird, shady shit at the end I don’t even feel comfortable with? You acted like you wanted everything to be cut and dried, no surprises, and then you spring this on me?” “I expected you to
read
the contract, Sabrina,” he answered, eyes burning back at me. Clearly, he didn’t like to be spoken to in this tone. “You were
supposed
to find out.”

“Then, why didn’t you tell me when we first talked about it?” I was livid. “

He started to answer but I was too wound up to stop.

“You know what, Calvin?” I said. “Just don’t. You’re like every other goddamned manipulator in my life. Say one thing, do another. Mister ‘Whatever you want at your pace, Sabrina’—you know what?! I didn’t
ask you for that,
” I hissed.  “I came here fully prepared to fulfill my part of the deal. Remember what it was supposed to be? My virginity? Yeah.  You like what.. feet and handcuffs? You could have said that, you paid three million dollars, I could have coped with it. But no.” I waved my hands around. “That’s not good enough for you. You have to have some big elaborate scheme and people told to seduce me and all kinds of…” I was running out of steam now. “Nonsense. All kinds of nonsense.” I flopped down in a chair. “I was starting to like you, you know.”
Oh jeez, are those tears welling up? God, Sabrina, don’t cry.

“
If you want to back out now, you can,” Calvin said. “Nothing was hidden from you. You signed the contract.”

“Yeah, I signed it. I realize that. But you intentionally left all of that out during our little pre-contract heart to heart negotiations,” I said wearily.  “You were misleading and you know it. And then tonight… trotted out like a show animal for your friends to leer at and test… For Christ’s sake, Calvin, I didn’t keep my virginity by getting drunk off wine and fucking the first blonde boy that winks at me.”

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” I continued.  “Yeah, I went along with the three weeks but I wanted to auction off my virginity, not all this nonsense. ‘Oh, it’s fine if you don’t want sex, Sabs, we’ll go at your pace,’ you say, but you think it’s fine to fuck with my feelings and treat me like a toy in every other way.  God, Calvin! I wanted the sex.  I wanted you to fuck me and for me to be done with the stupid fucking virginity that I saved for my stupid, cheating fiancé and, prove my independence.  Maybe it’s not mature but that’s what I wanted to put the last horrible month behind me. And I just end up being manipulated by someone else instead.”

He didn’t say anything, but suddenly he was up, in front of me, pulling me close.  I pounded on his chest like an angry child until he caught my wrist in his hand. God, he was strong. Before I knew it, his other hand was around my neck, as he pinned me against the wall.

“Consider it done,” he whispered, his face looming next to mine. He smelled wonderful. I gasped as he slid his hand under my clothes, sliding his palm over my breast, massaging me roughly, pulling my nipple between his fingers. His face dug into my neck, half-biting, half-kissing. I leaned away to let him have his fill. He trailed his lips up my chin and cheek, and when our lips met, I could taste the salt of my tears on his kiss. And
what
a kiss! I felt all his strength, all his anger. I felt myself slipping away under his touch. I was still furious but I was
glad
to be.  I was grateful to have him to hold on to, to be mad at. I hardly noticed his removing my clothes. My arms went where he put them; my shirt slipped over my head. My skirt fell to the floor, and I moaned as he tore away the skimpy thong and I felt his warm fingers against my sex.

“This was how you wanted it, right?” he growled. My only answer was to fumble at the buttons on his shirt.  He grabbed my ass and pulled our bodies together. His lips pulled at my ear, and I cried a shudderi
ng gasp in his. I could feel him hard against my thigh, and I wanted his pants out of the way.  His mouth was back at mine, bruising my lips with his hungrily, pinning me against the wall, shoving my thighs apart with his knee. 

His fingers dug into my hips; his mouth sent warmth crawling down my back.

“You said you wanted to be
fucked
, Sabrina. Tell me you changed your mind; tell me you want me to stop.” One of his fingers slipped between my folds. I gasped, hanging on to him. “See how easy it is? See how easily I can make you belong to no one but me?” he hissed. He spun me and pressed my cheek into the wall. My hips stuck out by instinct, and his hand cupped under my ass without missing a beat.

I couldn’t speak, body craving his touch but at the same time, fear began to set in. I whimpered, but this time not with desire.

“So, do you want it, Sabrina? This is really how you want it? Because if you think I can’t do it like that you’re very badly mistaken.” His voice was rough with desire but I also sensed his control. I…
I
was not in control. Of myself, let alone him. Tears ran down my face, but I pressed back against his hand.  I couldn’t stop myself.  I wanted it over with. 

He pulled me close to him, his finger finding my clit, melting me. I couldn’t put a thought together.  He tortured me that way, deliciously, kissing me, at first roughly and then more gently, then moved his hand away. I held on to him. He picked me up easily, and moved to the office couch, sat with me in his lap. 

His voice was still dangerous when he whispered in my ear, “Believe me, Sabrina, I’m capable of what you
say
you want.” I sobbed against his neck. “Shh,” he said, stroking my hair. “It’s all right.”

He waited until I was breathing more calmly. 

“Sabrina, I’m sorry you felt manipulated,” he said, wiping the tears from my face gently. “That wasn’t my intention.  I won’t test you—like that—again. I didn’t realize it would make you think of your family or your ex manipulating you.” His voice was sincere, and the tone seemed to command me to calm down… but it was comforting. 

“However, if you want to leave based on what happened, I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’d encourage it. Because if you stay for longer, I don’t think there will be a way back. So, do you want to stay or do you want to go? This can all end right now.”

“Stay,” I whispered, without thinking, suddenly, and completely exhausted.  I’d just run an emotional marathon. 

“Sabrina, what am I going to do with you?” he whispered, kissing
my forehead. “It’s time for bed, don’t you think?” he asked.  “You’ve had a very long day.” The pounding in my chest had slowed and started in my head. He was right; I had had
way
too much to drink, and I was beginning to think my reaction had been a little over the top. I nodded.  He helped me get dressed, in a daze.