You're Invited(5)

Speaking of which, I checked the time again. I was fifteen minutes early, as always. I was early for everything. It wasn’t something I could help. Give me a deadline or a time to meet someone, and I get this lurch in my stomach. Like the clock ticks with the beat of my heart. Like something would explode if I wasn’t on time to stop it.

At least in this case, it was good to be early. I can’t even imagine what his reaction would be if I kept him waiting, but I’m always early, and he’s always noticed, and he’s always been amused.

I let myself into the plush art deco room that looked straight out of an episode of Mad Men and adjusted the air-conditioning so it wasn’t too cold.

My fingers itched to check my phone one last time, so I quickly turned it on and glanced at her feed, but nothing had changed except about forty more comments begging to know the news.

I had a notification on one of my profiles, KimKx, but it was nothing important. Just a heart from someone random probably looking to get more follows.

I took a deep breath to calm myself and brought my hands up to my neck. It was warm, and my icy hands from the freezing limo ride felt good against my skin. I don’t know why her big news made me feel so uneasy.

I checked the clock on the vintage side table. Time for me to put my mind in a box. To let go, finally, after waiting for what felt like an eternity even though it was just a month.

I went to the closet and slipped off my shoes, dress, and matching black lace underwear. I only ever dressed up on the off chance that I would run late anyway. I hung up my dress and left everything else neatly on a shelf. Then I went into the bathroom and washed my hands, making sure I didn’t mess up the perfectly rolled hand towels or the little bottles of L’Occitane body lotion on the counter. I opened my purse and gave myself a spritz from the travel-sized perfume I kept with me just for nights like this.

Fixing a loose strand of hair, I finally pulled out the short black leather strap. It was soft, about an inch and a half wide, and felt snug against my skin as I buckled it behind my neck. The D-shaped ring glinted in the dim bathroom light, and I brushed my fingers against it for a moment. I took another deep breath. This. This is why I’m here. The soft leather reminded me. It grounded me.

I went back into the bedroom and moved a coffee table to the side, making space between the wall and the large four-poster bed. I took one last deep breath, let myself unwind, and knelt down facing the wall. Lacing my fingers behind my head, I relaxed further.

Most people don’t get it. At least, I guessed that most people wouldn’t get it. It’s not like I’d ever have the guts to tell anyone, after all. But I know most people don’t understand the need to give up control, especially when so much of our lives are spent trying to be in control.

But no one really accepts that we aren’t in control of anything anyway. At least this way, I can control who I give control over to. It was comforting.

Comforting, and my god it was sexy.

The ache I got, that started at my navel and slithered down between my legs whenever I thought about him.

Him. Alexander. Never Alex, not even as a joke. Alexander, even if I could never be sure that was even his real name. Whose face I have never seen. Who summons me once a month in his limousine to this fancy hotel where one night probably costs two months of my little studio apartment’s rent.

Alexander, who has laid down his terms, as I’ve laid down mine—this is all it will be. Nothing more. Nothing less. Nothing less than the absolute freedom of giving up total control to someone else. For someone like me, who spends every moment of every day obsessing over every detail, who plays back every single conversation in her head, who second-guesses every decision she’s ever made, he was a godsend. My only chance to let go. My only chance to just be.

At least, that’s what I’d thought all this time. Until two months ago, when he asked if I’d like to meet for drinks beforehand.

“In person?” I’d replied stupidly, my fingers grazing the blindfold for a fleeting second, making sure it hadn’t budged.

“Yes, my dear. In person.”

I’d swallowed. This was not the deal. These were certainly not the terms.

“Can I think about it?” I said finally. I was hoping he’d take the hint, and it felt like he had because he never mentioned it again. Things easily slipped back to where they were before, and I’ve been grateful.

So when I heard the key in the lock, when his woody, musky cologne filled the room, when I heard him mutter the words “Hello, my pet” before he slipped the satin blindfold over my eyes, I exhaled one last time.

I heard the crack of a whip and my body melted, even though he hadn’t touched me yet. And he wouldn’t. Not with his hands, anyway. Not for hours, while he teased me and tortured me and made me give every part of myself over to him.

I relaxed. My monsters will be kept at bay.

I could finally be me.



* * *



—

IT WAS HOURS later, aching, breathless, and more myself than I had felt in weeks, that I finally woke up again. Our night was ending. He was getting ready to leave. I was in bed, blindfold still on, but I could hear him. I listened, trying to guess what he was doing. I could hear a zipper being done, and a clink of something, maybe cuff links. As always, I yearned to sneak a peek at him. To catch a glimpse of this man who changed everything for me. But I kept my blindfold on. Those were the rules. And I always, always played by the rules. He knew that. He knew me.