Stuck On My Stepbrother (11 page)

Adam put his key in the lock. ‘I live on this floor, yes,’ he replied. ‘And the two above it.’

At that moment, he opened the door, revealing an astonishingly magnificent sight. The entrance foyer was in itself a work of art. It had a high ceiling, with a huge, twisting staircase, leading up to the next two floors. The floor and steps were again made of marble (hand-laid African St. Laurent, Adam told me when I asked him about it), and there was a marble statue of a young, naked girl at the bottom of the stairs.

‘That’s Artemis,’ Adam told me as I walked towards it.
 

I longed to run my hands over her smooth marble skin, but didn’t dare touch something so perfect.

‘She’s the goddess of wild animals and the hunt, among other things.’

‘What other things?’ I asked, marveling at the delicate curls of her hair, her strong slender neck, her determined eyes.
Perhaps she is preparing to hunt.
 

‘Virginity,’ he replied softly.

I noticed an arrow, clutched in one of her hands.
Perhaps she has already locked eyes onto her pray.

‘Let’s go to the sitting room.’ Adam began climbing the marble staircase, and I went after him. I wondered what was behind the many doors we were passing by. How many bedrooms this place had. How many bathrooms. Whether this was one of those luxury penthouse apartments you’d see advertised in the newspaper as in ‘triple mint condition’. I wondered how many zeroes were on the end of the price for this place. At least six, I figured. Maybe seven.

As we reached the top of the stairs, I was stunned to see that this level was all open plan. The floor space was massive. There were no brick walls either; just like at the office, everything was glass. From where I was standing now, I had a three hundred and sixty degree view of the city.

‘Come on,’ said Adam. ‘Over here. Take a proper look at the view.’

I swallowed nervously, terrified of another fainting attack, like the one at the office. But fainting at the office was an entirely different matter to fainting in my boss’
home
.

Oh god, I’m in my boss’ home
, I suddenly thought.
Why am I here? Why did I agree to this?

‘It’s okay,’ Adam smiled. ‘Let me show you how it’s done.’ He walked past several plush sofas, past another statue, of a young man this time, and he reached the glass. He stood with his back to me. ‘Walk over here to me,’ he said.

I began, very slowly, to walk towards him, focusing on the objects in the room. The statue, I saw when I was closer, was not of a man, but a satyr. It had hooves, a horse’s tail, and horselike ears. And I couldn’t help but notice it had an erect, horselike phallus too.

‘Satyrs are Dionysian creatures,’ said Adam, who had noticed my footsteps coming to a halt behind the statue. ‘Sensual and spontaneous. They love wine and women, and physical pleasures.’

I felt a strange tingle of disgust (was it disgust? or excitement?) looking at the bulging phallus, and then I continued walking, up to the window. I didn’t step quite as far as Adam, right up to the edge. I stood half a meter or so behind it, and focused my attention on the immaculate polished floor.
 

‘If you follow my instructions,’ said the firm voice to my left, ‘you won’t be afraid of being up this high.’

I doubted whatever he was about to say was going to work. I’d suffered from this fear my entire life.

‘First of all, close your eyes.’

I was happy to oblige with that part, so that I didn’t have to look out of the window.

‘Now take a deep breath in through your nose,’ he said. ‘And then a nice, long steady breath out of your mouth.’

I did as he said.

‘Feel the pressure in your chest, falling away, feel the soles of your feet rooted firmly on the floor.’

I imagined the soles of my feet growing roots, imagining that the floor was the earthy ground of a forest, that I was growing into it, becoming a part of the wilderness. I liked that feeling.

‘Next, I want you to open your eyes, very slowly, and as you do, I want you to remember to take a deep breath again. Don’t focus on anything when your eyes are fully open; just let them watch the air in front of your face, nice and soft.’

I continued to do as he said, and found that the process of listening to his voice, so soothing and direct, so confident and strong, was in itself making me feel less afraid. Being told what to do felt sort of relaxing. Took some of the pressure away from me.

‘Now let your eyes fall upon something outside. Remember to take a deep breath in and out as your eyes focus. Now keep you eyes there and take a few more deep breaths. That’s good.’

I looked at an aerial on top of a building and felt fine.
 

I’m fine! I’m looking out of the window on the forty-second floor and I’m fine!

‘That’s amazing,’ I said, growing in bravery and letting my eyes move around as the adrenaline seeped away. The city looked stunning. It was dusk’, the lights had started to go on, and the last remaining light of the day was disappearing behind several tall skyscrapers, staining the sky behind it blood orange. I could see the dark mass of Central Park beneath me, dotted with lights and evening activity. I’d never seen a view more wonderful. I’d never
been able
to look at a view like this so calmly before. ‘How did you learn to do that?’

‘I didn’t,’ Adam said. ‘I was just guessing.’

I almost gave him a playful push but remembered my place. I wasn’t just his sister any more. I was his employee. But then I remembered what he’d said to me earlier and felt a rush of anger coming back to me. ‘Why did you invite me here?’ I asked, stern all of a sudden. ‘What more do we need to discuss?’

‘I want to put things right between us,’ he replied. ‘I want you to understand me better. I’m going to show you who I’ve become, since we grew up together. Who I really am.’

Adam led me over to the sofa, and told me to take a seat. He walked over to a bar counter, some twenty paces away, and began opening a bottle of wine. I hated to admit it, but I liked watching him. His movements were so controlled, so precise. He seemed to have all the brute strength of a warrior, and the precision of a fine artist. He checked two wine glasses for smudges before pouring two neat servings of wine, then took in a deep inhalation of the wine’s bouquet in one of the glasses. ‘Nothing beats an Argentinian red,’ he said. ‘This one’s like drinking liquid velvet.’

He left the wine bottle on the countertop and brought the glasses over to us.
 

‘Here,’ he said. ‘I owe you an apology.’

He sat on the sofa beside me, clinking his glass against mine, and then drinking, letting the wine sit on his tongue for a moment before he swallowed. I did the same. He was right. The wine was very smooth, not acidic in the slightest, like the three dollar bottles I would pick up after my lectures at uni. It was delicious. I had another mouthful.

‘I can see that what I said to you in the restaurant must have seemed very strange,’ he said. ‘Disgusting, even.’ He seemed to struggle to spit out the word
disgusting
. I would have felt embarrassed for him, if it wasn’t for the fact he was keeping his composure so perfectly. ‘I’m sorry I spoke to you about it. It wasn’t appropriate.’

‘No, it wasn’t,’ I said quietly, feeling strangely warm and safe, sitting so close to this man, on the same sofa as one another, our knees just inches apart.

‘Now that I’ve said it, though, I can’t make it go away. Seeing how angry you were when I told you has made me determined to get this ironed out. I’m going to open up to you further now, Rose. If I go too far, tell you more than you want to know, you can leave. I’ll call you a cab whenever you want. Okay?’

I nodded. I don’t know why, but I wanted to stay. I wanted to see what he felt he needed to show me.

Adam placed his wine on the coffee table, and walked away behind a marble pillar. I heard a drawer opening and shutting, and then he returned, holding a carved, ivory box.
 

‘Take this,’ he urged, handing me the box. I put down my wine and took the box onto my lap and studied the intricate design carved into it. Koi carp, mountains, and a tiger running out into the foreground. It was beautiful.
 

‘Now open it,’ he told me, and I lifted the lid.

Inside, there was nothing but a length of old rope. It looked about six meters long. Maybe longer. I couldn’t figure out what it was for a moment. And then I remembered.

‘This is what’s known as
asanawa
,’ he said. ‘Take it out. Hold onto it.’

I lifted it out of the box, as I might have lifted an injured bird, anxiously, delicately, afraid to break it, or afraid I might break holding it. I was surprised how soft it felt.

‘It’s made of jute,’ Adam said. ‘Vegetable fiber. It’s incredibly strong, but also soft. I treat it with wax, to keep it at its best. The more it’s used, the more it matures. Becomes even softer.’

I moved it between my fingers, enjoying the sensation.

‘It’s less likely to cause rope burn than synthetic rope. It doesn’t heat up so quickly when you draw it across the skin.’ He took hold of a length of the rope and drew it quickly across the back of my hand. It sent a sharp tingle down my arm.
 

‘There are so many beautiful knots you can create with this. Each knot is in itself a work of art, but when you pair it up with the human form, it becomes magnificent.’

I tried to imagine the feeling of this rope, constricting my entire body, tangling me in its web, yanking my limbs into uncomfortable positions. ‘Doesn’t it hurt?’ I asked.

‘Of course it hurts,’ Adam said, running the rope down the length of my arm now. ‘It hurts a lot.’

I grew aware of my breathing. How heavy it was getting. How quick my heart was beating. ‘Then why would someone let you do it?’ I asked.

‘Because it is beautiful,’ he answered immediately. ‘Pain can be beautiful too.’

‘Adam,’ I began, clutching the rope tight under my knuckles. ‘Why did you ask me to let you do this to me? Why me?’ My voice was shaking. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

‘You have no idea,’ Adam said, wiping a loose strand of hair away from my face, making me gasp, ‘how attractive you are, Rose. And I find
that
incredibly attractive.’

‘So what if I let you do this to me? What then?’

‘There would be rules,’ he said gently. ‘There are ways it has to be done. You’d need to obey those rules.’

‘Would I have to be naked?’ I asked, fearfully.

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘You’ve seen the statues around my house. The most artistic way to represent the human form is without clothes. Skin is the perfect canvas.’

I braced myself to ask the most terrifying question yet. ‘Is it about sex?’ I stammered, trembling. ‘Is this a sexual thing? You know… you’re my stepbrother, and I… we…’

Adam took the rope from my hands, and pulled a section of it completely taut, then let it slacken in his hands. ‘It’s not necessarily sexual,’ he said.
 

I held onto the end of the rope, which was still in the box, and we began kneading the same length of roper together, holding it at different ends, almost like two children with a skipping rope… except that we definitely weren’t children any more.
 

There was no way I could tell Adam that I’d never had sex. Besides, I didn’t think he wanted to have sex with me. He just wanted to do this rope thing. For the sake of art. Someone like Adam would never actually want to have sex with me. I’d seen the girls he brought home as a teenager. He obviously just wanted to humiliate me in some way.

‘Rose,’ he said softly, ‘this rope is an extension of me.’ I felt suddenly embarrassed that I was squeezing and kneading part of it between my fingers, but I didn’t let go. I held onto it even harder.

‘And I’d like it,’ he continued, ‘if it became an extension of you, too.’

He lifted up the rope now, taking it out of my hands, and slid it over my shoulders. Feeling the weight of it behind my back made me realise just how powerful it was, how tightly a rope like this would be able to bind me. How impossible it would be to break free of it if I was, say, held hostage somewhere. Was I being held hostage now? He slipped the rope further down my back, and I felt it running over my spine, reminding me how skinny I was, how much I’d enjoyed being told what to eat this week. As the rope passed further down my spine, the hairs on my arms began to stand on end.
 

‘I don’t know,’ I shivered, aware of a growing tingle between my thighs, a gradual moistness spreading at the top of my legs.
 

I looked into my stepbrother’s eyes, and he stared back at me, harsh and serious, full of stern desire. ‘Think about it,’ he said.
 

‘Okay,’ I responded, gasping as the rope reached my coccyx, and he pulled it tight against me, sending quick ripples down into my buttocks. ‘I’ll do it,’ I said. ‘I’ll let you tie me up.’ I couldn’t believe what I was saying. I don’t know if it was the saké, or the wine, or the smell of Adam’s aftershave, or the warm, wet feeling between my legs, but this wasn’t like me at all. I had no idea where I was going with this. I felt strangely free – and like I was tumbling forwards, unable to stop myself.

Adam’s lips looked dry, and he ran his tongue across them quickly, looking down at my neck, my shoulders, not letting his gaze travel further, though I guessed he might want to. ‘If you agree to this, Rose, then you know I’ll have to be in complete control. This isn’t something you can dip your toes into. You go all in. You surrender. Completely.’

I felt the rope grazing my the back of my dress, looked at Adam’s big, strong hands. ‘I’m surrendering,’ I whispered. ‘I surrender.’

There’s nothing much to tell you about the rest of that night. Don’t believe me? I’m serious. We didn’t make out. I didn’t stay over. Nothing weird happened. No funny business whatsoever.