Wrapped In Shadows (2 page)

“Maybe people will actually think I’m interesting,” I countered snidely.

Michelle stared for a moment. “Why do you want to do this? To get back at Josh? He’s not worth it.”

I tilted my head, wondering at my friend’s accusation. I was angry at Josh, yes. I was hurt, yes. But…there was more to it. I couldn’t capsulate the nebulous emotions. It was a feeling I’d experienced before but had no name for.

“This isn’t about Josh. I’m just…curious.” I answered as honestly as I could. “I always have been. And why not do it now? I’m suddenly single, right?”

Michelle walked to the couch and flopped onto it. “This isn’t your scene. You’re the hopeless romantic, the knight-in-shining-armor kind of girl. You want love and romance, not whips and chains and butt-plugs!”

I felt my cheeks grow red at her bold words and Michelle must have seen the look on my face because she rolled her eyes and swore softly.

“See?”

I chewed my lip, again trying to define the feelings gnawing at me. I felt so
lost
. Like I was floating…searching…
for what?

“I…I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“I’ll stay with you.”

My arms found their way around my torso and I tossed out a chuckle. “You know what I mean. Sorry, you’re the wrong sex.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re an innie and I need an outie.”

“
Jesus Christ, Kay!”
Michelle scrubbed her palms up and down her face, smudging her perfect make-up. “You’ve been with the same guy for three years having white-bread sex. Now you want to go to a sex club?”

My mouth fell open. “White-bread? It wasn’t white-bread. Maybe… pumpernickel.”

Michelle grinned. “Whole wheat,
maybe.
With no crust.”

I made a face. I’d never complained about sex with Josh. Granted, I’d never written poetry about it, but I’d never complained. I could sense her resolve dwindling. My own, which had been so staunch a few moments ago, started to waver, but I took a fortifying breath.
Why not do this?
I really didn’t want to be alone tonight. I didn’t want to think about Josh, or Carol, or the wedding, or my parents and the foundation. And the last thing I needed was any emotional attachments. I knew it sounded callous, but I craved intimacy with a warm body. I wanted to just get lost—mind and body—in ecstasy. I couldn’t stomach the thought of returning to my immaculate, rambling penthouse apartment.

“You’re not even approved,” Michelle tossed at me. “You’re not a member.”

“I just had my physicals done. I can download the paperwork. Eddie works security there sometimes, right? I’m sure he can pull some strings.” I knew Michelle would try to talk me out of it. This exclusive club required recent physicals and blood work for all members. Members had to be sponsored and approved. The entry fee was also an exorbitant amount, and all transactions were done in cash. Not that I planned on frequenting this establishment with any regularity, but I appreciated the stringent screening process.

“I’m not making any promises. I’ll have to talk to Eddie.”

I swallowed my nervousness and faced her with a smile. “Okay, what do I do?”

Rubbing her temples like she had a migraine, Michelle groaned and peeked one eye open. “I can’t be seen with you like that.”

I pursed my lips and looked down at my outfit. “What?”

“Lose the pearls.” She rolled her eyes. “That fluffy sweater’s gotta go too. You look like you mugged a sheep.”

I grinned, starting to feel some of the pain and grief from the evening drain away. Leave it to Michelle to make me smile. I tried not to analyze what I was doing too closely. A nervous buzzing started in my belly, a strange anticipation. I was really going to do this.
Oh, shit
… “Maybe we can find something in your closet for me.”

“I’m afraid my
play
clothes might spontaneously combust if they get anywhere near you.” Michelle stood and walked towards me. “I might have something, though, that will be less…
dick-deflating
.”

I frowned and looked down at my Scottish cashmere sweater set and Louis Vuitton chinos.

“Dick-deflating?”
Was it really that bad?

Michelle’s lips twisted in a sarcastic smile. “Yes, that outfit says:
dick-deflating
,
white-bread
sex.” She looked deep into my eyes and I had to struggle not to squirm. “Although I think this is crazy, you know I’ll always support you in whatever you want to do, Kay. You sure you want to do this?”

I took a deep breath.
Fuck Josh!
I was not going to spend the night crying over him and our failed relationship!

“Yes.”

“
Stop wringing your fingers!”
Michelle leaned over and whispered in my ear as we followed the graceful figure down the narrow hall. I looked at my hands, realizing I’d been twisting them into knots since the cab ride, the long wait in the receiving room, and since my introduction to Ms. Carmen. Ms. Carmen was the hostess, a beautiful fine-boned woman who I surmised must be somewhere in her mid-thirties. She wore an elegant black dress and her hair was sculpted into a dainty twist. I hadn’t known what to expect, but certainly it wasn’t this opulent establishment with its French traditional décor, scattered Louis XV antiques, and fine Rembrandt reproductions.

I realized as I moved down the long hall, with the many adjoining rooms, that each room had its own unique style. Most of the doors were closed, but some rooms were open and I was able to glance inside. We passed one with a Texan theme, complete with mechanical bull in the center, and I could see plush cow-hide throws piled in one corner of the room. A man lounged in a wooden chair. He was dressed like a cowboy, complete with ten-gallon hat, denim, and cowboy boots. I couldn’t see who he was talking to, but he had an inviting smile on his face. I sidled a gaze at Michelle, and she returned a wide grin.

“
Giddy-up, cowgirl!
Ever do it cowgirl on a mechanical bull at full speed?”

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the glaze of sweat on my palms. It was obvious Michelle was finding great amusement in my unease.

We’d left Eddie in a room drinking and chatting with two other friends who I’d met for the first time that night. I had sort of expected one gregarious party with scantily clad women, and ripped metal-studded stallions doing wonderfully wicked things to them. I was surprised to not have encountered a single soul except for the occasional glimpses into a room. I’d told Ms. Carmen that I didn’t want to join a group. I knew I’d be too self conscious, and I couldn’t risk being recognized. Instead I’d opted for a “one-on-one,” as Michelle had explained.
Could I really go through with this?
Again, I tried not to think too deeply about this very new experience. It was bad enough my knees were wobbling loosely and I could barely manage her steps.

One good thing was my mind was so preoccupied with what was behind those doors that I hadn’t the time to contemplate Josh or my shattering heartbreak. I just felt a lingering numbness inside, like ice had coated my emotions. I saw a slightly open door and curiosity got the best of me. Lingering behind, I quickly glanced through the opening. Inside the room was a short man wearing a yellow trench coat, and I chewed my lip, thinking he reminded me of a flasher and was probably buck naked underneath. From the door, I could see a partial profile. He rubbed a hand across his chin, then turned and scanned the room. The light from the chandelier above highlighted his dark hair and boyish features. He swiveled again, but stopped suddenly, and I knew the man had sensed my presence. Turning away, I hustled down the hall, trying to catch up with the other two women. Great. Now I was a peeping Tom.

I wondered if the man had seen me. Ms. Carmen turned down another hall and pushed open a heavy door. Michelle stepped into the room and I followed.

Holy mother of mercy!

I sucked in a quiet breath, afraid to display my reaction, but I could already feel Michelle’s gaze on my face.

Ms. Carmen walked to the other side of the room, switching on more lights, and everything came into stark focus.

I leaned close to Michelle.

“
Whips, and chains, and butt-plugs, oh my!”

“You can still make it back to Kansas before bedtime.” Michelle winked.

I ignored her, morbidly fascinated with the objects in the black-painted room. Even the ceiling was black, I noted, tilting my head. There were several evenly spaced metal contraptions bolted to the floor and a large steel cage in the center. One of the contraptions reminded me of a giant see-saw, except where the seats would be, there were long thick chains embedded into the metal. Another apparatus looked like an executioner’s chair, only this one was equipped with stirrups and a swing suspended over it. My brain started to smoke with the effort of trying to contemplate its functionality. I choked back a startled sound when my gaze hit the far wall. A myriad of whips, chains, floggers, manacles, and phallic objects hung from hooks—phallic objects that no human body could possibly accommodate. I wiped at the sudden moisture on my forehead and quickly averted my gaze. I felt my vagina clamp down, saying,
‘don’t even think about it’
. There were two other doors in the room, and I had a driving curiosity as to what was behind them.

My curiosity was soon assuaged when one of the doors opened and a large man stepped out and stood quietly with his arms folded across his chest. He was dressed in shiny black leather, his body massive and broad with stacks of muscle. Whatever skin wasn’t covered by leather was covered with a mosaic of colorful tattoos I struggled to look away from. They were artfully beautiful yet still very masculine. He wore a shiny black mask over his face that had a large cut out for his nostrils and mouth. From what I could tell from this distance, the cut out was patched with metal bars.
Hmmm…
His body was gorgeous and my vagina instantly responded.
‘Don’t even think about it!’
I scolded. He looked intense. I had a feeling this man was someone I’d have to work my way up to, like spicy food, or nipple clamps. He was not for newbies.

Michelle scooted next to me, a smug look on her face, and I frowned.

“You brought me to Hannibal Lechter’s lab just to scare me, didn’t you?” I whispered.

Michelle grinned again and made an extremely rude motion with her tongue through her fingers.

I grimaced, but was about to assure her I didn’t scare so easily when Ms. Carmen glided towards us. Ms. Carmen nodded toward the man standing silently on the opposite side of the room.

“Master is in charge of this room. He is frequently requested. Will this suit, Ms. Gettof?”

I jerked my gaze toward my friend, who was struggling hard to suppress her laughter. I could feel heat creeping across my face. It was bad enough that Eddie had registered me as Ms. Ivanna Gettof, or really, ‘
I wanna get off
.” The man’s sense of humor left much to be desired. Thank God Ms. Carmen had the grace to keep a straight face each time she addressed me, but the appellation sent Michelle into hysterics.

“Uh, uh…” I needed a mental pep talk.

Okay…relax. Just be calm. Act like this is nothing new…don’t be so…so…white bread! Think… pumpernickel, pumpernickel…

“Uh…” I started, jutting my chin with confidence. My gaze sidled to the imposing figure waiting quietly, then to the strange playground equipment. I cleared my throat and tried to sound as worldly as possible.

“I was just in a room like this one last week…one can only
see-saw
so much. And if I get locked in one more cage, well…I just might lose my mind. I think I’d like to keep it simple this time around.”

A perfectly winged brow lifted and Ms. Carmen regarded me with a straight face. Too straight. No emotion. Zilch.

Hmmm…not buying it…okay…
Should I make a joke? Tell her my gynecologist called and wants his chair back?
Hmmm…

It took a strained effort to not look directly at Michelle who appeared to be busily studying her boots, but I could tell by the small jiggles of her shoulders that she was bursting with contained laughter. I wanted to kill her.

Ms. Carmen stood patiently, seeming to await instruction, and I had no idea how to request what I wanted. It was most likely because I had no clue what it was I wanted, and as time passed, doubt started to pierce my resolve.

What if someone recognized me? What if word did get out? What about the reputation of the Vandercamp Foundation? What was I doing here?

Some of the emotions that had pressed in on me earlier surfaced. My imagined future with Josh was gone. My hopes and dreams had withered to dust back at his apartment. My heart was breaking to pieces because the man I was to spend the rest of my life with had betrayed me. Would this really help me feel better?

Michelle must have sensed my detour in mood because her expression sobered and she whispered something in Ms. Carmen’s ear. The older lady nodded and indicated for us to follow her from the room. I fell into step behind her, but I grabbed Michelle’s wrist, and pulled her to me.

“What did you say to her?” I whispered. “Where are we going? What’s your ploy now—some weird bat cave?”

Michelle smirked and laced our fingers together. “Trust me.”

Butterfly wings fluttered in my belly, but as much as Michelle enjoyed teasing me, I knew I could trust my friend. “I’m nervous,” I confessed on the next breath.

“You can still change your mind.”

I shook my head firmly, netting the butterflies. “I need total anonymity,” I rushed out. “I don’t want to know who he is. I just want to…do it.”

Michelle squeezed my hand reassuringly and spoke a few more words to Ms. Carmen, who nodded and showed us to a small waiting parlor. She closed the door behind her as she left.

“Try not to be so nervous. Just enjoy yourself,
Ivanna
.” Michelle dissolved into laughter when we were alone.

I rolled my eyes. “Eddie is officially on my shit-list. Just letting you know.”