She couldn’t believe she’d actually done it.
Oh god! This was bad – so bad. What the fuck had she been thinking?
She could feel a rush of heat sweeping up her chest onto her face. This – this is why she’d never done anything like this before. She was incapable of hiding her feelings. “You’re like an open book,” her mum had always said. “Honesty like that is a beautiful thing, darling.”
It wasn’t beautiful when you had dark fantasies, wicked thoughts that made you shift and squirm in your seat at work, on the bus, in the cafe at lunch time. It wasn’t beautiful when your body was in a permanent state of tension, needing things that you could hardly bring yourself to accept, never mind ask for from anybody.
She laughed mirthlessly. Who was she kidding? There was no-one to ask. She had buried her secret self so securely she barely recognised who she was anymore. There was an unyielding, heavy knot inside her. Like rope, she imagined each strand braided together with tiny words branded on it, all the breathless, hot dreams written down and tied tight and left deep inside her where up to now it had been safe and secure.
Now one moment of insanity was about to ruin all the hard work she’d put into becoming invisible, because he saw her now.
He saw it all.
She was alone for the moment. Her whole body was tense and alert, ready to run. She’d left his office on the pretext of needing a drink. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and tried to relax her shoulders but the black and white photographs were all she could see, the erotic images imprinted on her eyelids.
She’d only gone into his office to leave a message on his desk. She’d known the room would be empty, he’d had a meeting in another part of the building. She was the only one allowed in there when he wasn’t there, so her guard had been down. Maybe that’s why she’d done it?
She had dropped the message on his desk and was turning to leave when she’d seen the three frames balanced against the wall. The pictures were facing the wall but she had been insanely curious to know what they were. So she’d walked over and turned them around only to be confronted with her deepest, darkest desires.
She should have put them back and walked away, she should never have touched them.
Instead in a trance, her heart nearly beating out of her chest, she’d found herself bending over and tracing the lines of rope on the beautiful woman’s skin; touching the knots, following the line of rope leading to the next knot, feeling the goosebumps rise on her own skin.
She had held her wrists together emulating the woman’s pose in the second photograph, and slowly fallen to her knees.
Looking into the model’s eyes, she’d seen the rich glow of peace, the knowledge that the rope was everything she wanted in that moment, the moment the shutter had gone down. Grace knew it was only a brief moment in time, a staged one at that, but she couldn’t help feeling that the woman knew it wouldn’t be the last time. She’d felt such an intense connection with her she’d raised her hand and stroked her face in the photograph.
That’s when she’d heard the door shut behind her.
She didn’t know how long he’d been stood there watching her. She’d scrambled to her feet, apologising over and over. One look in his dark eyes and she had known, her cover was blown and there was no way to change that. She’d practically run past him, couldn’t get away from that beautiful man fast enough.
She stood in the empty break room now and put her hot face in her hands. For the second time that day she heard the door shut behind her and knew it was him.
The panic was a wild animal inside her. She was on her tip toes, pivoting, ready to run before she even consciously thought about it. Get out! Get out! It was a verbal loop inside her head, the knot made one more valiant attempt to stay tight.
Head down, she moved to go round him, but he was blocking the door and in the end it only took one word as he took hold of her shoulders to stop her.
But the fight wasn’t over yet.
“Look at me.” He said as he held her still in front of him.
Staring at the neat knot of his tie, she couldn’t bring her eyes any higher and she only just managed to subdue a hysterical laugh when she wanted to say, “It’s all about the knots today!”
She didn’t have much choice though when his finger lifted her chin. She shut her eyes instead and heard his little laugh and a soft, “Grace”, laced with a hint of frustration in his low voice.
A tiny puff of air was the only warning she got before his mouth landed on hers. Her eyes shot open, only to be confronted with the clear challenge in his just before his long lashes dropped to conceal it.
His lips were soft but there was no doubt he controlled the kiss as his tongue stroked across her full bottom lip. The tingles that contact induced had her closing her eyes to savour them. Heart pounding she tried to maintain some semblance of awareness, of restraint. She didn’t understand what was happening and as lovely as his kiss was she felt off balance and deeply uncertain.
The knot was still tightly wound and years of concealing it could not be ignored even if his kiss made it hard to remember why.
As always, thanks for reading. I’ll be posting Part 2 next week…
Check out Kayla Lords’ site for more Masturbation Monday posts. It’s always worth a look.