“Oh god, that is a relief. Look, I’m fine and comfortable with what I do, but that is a whole new level of awkward I don’t want to put you through, especially as I would be none the wiser.”
“My dad has certain tastes, and I’m assuming you do too.”
“Yeah well, I have my favourite jobs. How about you, Zee, ever considered switching from being my driver to a member? In fact, why haven’t you?” And then I catch myself, “Sorry Zee, if I’m getting too personal, tell me to shut up. Your sex life is none of my business.”
“It’s ok, Sophie,” I hear the chuckle in his tone. “Honestly, it’s not my thing. I’d rather do all the things and explore my sexuality with the right person. Call it blind faith, but I know when I find her, she’s going to be the whole package and I’m willing to wait for her.”
“So no luckfinding her yet then?”
“Not yet.”
“And you don’t want to play until she comes along? I’m not saying everyone should have the lifestyle like me, but waiting seems like a lot of time to miss the fun bits in between.”
“There have been women. Just not the right ones. No one serious. It’s ok, my needs have been met when required.”
“Ever considered asking me to help you out?” There is a silence for a moment and I think I have likely pushed him too far.
Clearing his throat he says, “Yeah I have considered. But you had a boyfriend and that felt weird to me. I couldn’t move past it.”
“But, I don’t anymore?” I say questioningly.
“You’re now seeing a mystery man. So he now counts instead.”
“Oh Zee, you know I’d help you out if you ever allowed it. You need to get out of your own head for a minute. But yes, I am kinda involved with this guy, the online thing. It’s fun, exciting. But he also has me taking jobs with other members. I don’t think he’d mind if I helped out a friend. Plus you’re hot, fun, kind, loyal and I trust you.”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“Haha, would you like me to?” I say, wondering how far he’s going to allow this conversation to go. I am wondering how far I am going to let this conversation go. I must be ovulating because it sounds like I’m handing myself over to Zee. I blame Mack for this, he edged me this morning and suddenly I’m seeing everyone in a new light.
“We are here Sophie, you can take off your mask,” says Zee, sounding a little relieved.
“Saved by the job. Ok Zee, thank you,” I say as I pull my mask off and glance around at my surroundings.
“Are we in the right place?” I ask, looking at the all too familiar basement garage we visited on Tuesday.
“We are, unit 1201. I’ll be here when you are finished. Have fun,” Zee says to my bewildered face. Honestly, this week just keeps on giving. Am I back to seeing Rory again? Since when did he do Shibari?
I press the button to call up the lift and climb inside. I wave as Zee stays where he is until the doors close and I’m out of sight. When I arrive at the twelfth floor, I don’t need to look which side of the corridor to walk down, I’ve already been here. I turn right and walk up to the door and knock lightly. Who is going to open the door?
SIXTEEN
Sophie
The door opens and a familiar face stares back at me. His piercing blue eyes hold mine, his large frame fills the doorway, all broad chest, defined shoulders and thick forearms. His hair’s pulled back in a top knot, his stubble slightly longer than usual. He’s my Roman soldier. We stand staring at each other as my eyes question what is going on. Why is he here in Rory’s apartment? Why am I here again? I’ve been seeing Francis for the past twelve months, the time I spend with him is like a drug for more reasons than the joy of Shibari.
Francis steps into the space between us, forcing me to look up at him as he bends his knees and scoops me up, to my surprise. My legs naturally come up around his waist and my arms circle his thick muscular neck. He backs us in, my face level with his, taken aback by the unusual welcome I am receiving. When the door closes, he pushes me up against the back of it. He looks between my lips and my eyes, asking for permission to kiss me. I smile shyly back as his eyes check forcertain before his plump lips caress mine. They’re soft and pillowy, promising citrus and cinnamon as I allow myself to fall into this stolen moment with him and his lips on me. My hands circle his nape as our lips indulge in an unfamiliar rhythm, getting to know each other in this intimate way. When our lips part, it’s my tongue that seeks out his, exploring, tasting, wanting more. Francis pushes me up harder so my back is flush with the door as his tongue laps mine for the first time. I have fantasized about what it would feel like to have his lips on mine. I have always felt a connection but I had put it down to the vulnerability and emotions that this job evokes in me.
Our kiss doesn’t change pace, it consumes. My fingers creep up into his hair as our tongues dance and lap together, building my heartrate and the intensity that I feel pumping through my veins and straight to my pussy pressed up against his flat stomach. When Francis pulls away, we are panting and I don’t want this moment to be over. I take his lips again, slow and steady, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he crossed over the line but I want to stay there. When we break apart again he finally speaks, “My real name is Flynn, but everyone calls me Bear.” I grin at his introduction and understand exactly why he has that nickname. He is built like a bear and is the hairiest person I have ever met which I love about him. He’s stacked and he’s sexy in a Roman kind of way, my Roman. The admission endears me to him.
“Hi Flynn,” I whisper, our faces so close our noses almost touch. His eyes crinkle and soften adoringly towards me.
“My name on your lips…” he trails off and I can feel the warmth of his words on my lips.
“Do you have anything you want to tell me about Rory and I assume Mack?” I ask in a whisper. In answer Flynn closes his eyes and shakes his head.
“Are you ready to begin?” he asks as he takes all my weight with one hand and moves a rogue stray hair away from my face.
“Always,” I reply with certainty. Flynn, still holding me with one arm, walks me over to a thick rug in front of the sofa I don’t remember seeing last time. He gently lowers me to the floor until I can unwrap my feet from around him and stand. Flynn’s thick fingers begin at my neck unfastening my shirt one button at a time. He always undresses me, taking his time like he’s unwrapping a present as he reveals more and more of my skin to his eyes. He peels off my cardigan and then my shirt and lowers down to his knees that sink into the plush rug. He unzips my crop trousers and pulls them down over my hips, taking in the sight of me in my pastel pink lace thong and bra. I always want to look pretty in an innocent kind of way for him, maybe it’s the size of him that makes him feel like my protector, maybe it’s the level of attention and care he shows my body.
