e.Vampire.com (20 page)

She cared less about most of what she’d read. Dorian hadn’t once hurt her in order to climax. And he’d said his childhood was relatively normal.  Yet, he believed himself to be a bad guy. Why?

Oh my God, those rooms at e.Vampire.com! She needed to see what was in them. She closed the book and threw it across the room, not wanting to touch it.

Seriously, Jen, you’re letting your imagination drive you crazy. Demand to see those rooms and see what he says, then go from there.

The jingle of her cell phone start
led her. It was exactly 8:00 pm not 7:59 or 8:01. The guy was punctual, she’d give him that. Even with her suspicion of him, her heart beat faster. Would he break it tonight? She grabbed the phone and read the text.

Good evening Jennifer. Not a minute’s passed when you were not in my thoughts. What shall we do tonight, besides the obvious?
He’d inserted a moving icon, a blue eye that winked slowly.

She stared at it for a very long moment, thinking of what she’d say and how.

“Ah, fuck it.” She quickly texted him before she lost her nerve.
I want you to show me those private rooms at e.Vampire tonight.

She leaned back on the couch, the phone in her lap, biting her fingernails furiously, a habit she’d had for years. She was going to ruin the French manicure she’d gotten last week. 

A few minutes went by, and still he hadn’t responded. Her imagination wasn’t just running wild now. It was running a damn marathon.

The cell rang. Not a text. This time he was calling.

“Hello?” She answered timidly.

Why he usually chose to text her instead of call was probably just a fun thing or perhaps a necessity due to the demands on his time. He owned a large business after all.

She took it as a serious sign that he was calling. She was sure she’d hit a nerve with her request.

“That’s how you want to spend our evening Jennifer? Why do you want to see those rooms?” His voice sounded detached and far away on the phone. He didn’t sound angry. On the contrary his tone was calm.

“I . . . want to know what goes on in them. I saw the marks on those people when they came out and they seemed dazed.”

“I see.”

An awkward silence ensued.

“Dorian, are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“So? Will you take me there tonight or not?” She heard the defiance in her voice and was sure he’d picked up on it as well.

“Yes. If that’s what you want. I’ll take you. But . . . we need to talk first. I’ll pick you up in a half-hour. Be ready.”  His voice remained steady.

So like him, calm, cool
and in control as always,
she thought
.

Chapter 17

She heard his car screech to a halt outside her door fifteen minutes later. He didn’t bother coming to the door. He beeped and she ran out,
hopped in the car and before he could say a word, she blurted out, “Are you a sadist, Dorian?”

“Whoa. Jennifer. What’s got into you?” He turned to her, his hands up in surrender, looking totally dumbfounded.

“Just answer the question. Either you are or you’re not?”

His eyes bored into hers. The look in them was odd and contradictory. She saw the domineering
, almost threatening glitter there, which always excited her, but she saw something else too. He appeared to be struggling with some kind of inner torment.

He turned away from her and looked out the window, running his hand through his hair. She caught a glimpse of the shimmering blue diamond stud in his right ear. She’d seen him wear
it only once, the night they’d met. He was also meticulously dressed in a gray suit, black shirt and blue tie.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, he turned back to her. “No. I’m not.” He sounded as if he were not only trying to convince her, but himself as well.

“Are you sure? What have you done in those private rooms, Dorian?”

He sighed. “Ian told you the truth when he said I rarely attend those masked balls and I’ve not been in the dungeons in a very long time. I only came that night because I saw you. I wanted to get to know you, but not like that. If I was interested in having sex with you that night, I would’ve lured you to the rooms. I didn’t.”  His eyes were hopeful. He wanted her to believe him, to trust him.

“What the fuck, Dorian? Did you just call them
dungeons
? Do you think I’m so naïve that I don’t know what that is? Those are where BDSM sessions are performed! And you expect me to believe you? Why would you condone such a thing if you weren’t a part of it?” 

His answer was hard and cold and still she heard the hurt in his voice. “Don’t put words in my mouth
, Jennifer. I didn’t say I condoned it. It’s a business. We provide a service and we charge a lot of money for it. You’d be amazed at how many members we have. They’re not all scum either. We have some very powerful clients who like to do certain things in private. We guarantee them confidentiality. We’re not the only place that offers such services either. This is Miami for Christ sake! Besides, e.Vampire.com is not where my real business interests lay, Taylor and Van Ness is. It’s an internationally known and well respected software company.”

She was stunned into silence. Ian had told her he never attended the balls. Even Enrique had said Dorian was a good man, still, something tormented him and she was going to find out what it was. Not because she wanted to emasculate or humiliate him, because she
cared
about him.

She’d seen Dorian the control freak, the incredible lover, the romantic, the playful guy and now he was trying to share his truths with her, no matter how unpleasant they were. She sensed that kind of deep sharing didn’t come easy to him.

“Just what brought all this on Jennifer? I thought you were beginning to trust me.” He leaned toward her, his voice soft again, his face inches from hers. He didn’t touch her.

“I had a dream. I saw someone being whipped and then I thought of the private rooms and . . . .” She felt foolish now.

And she’d hurt him. Sometimes a dream was just a dream.

Still, something
was nagging her and she had to ask, had to know. Was the hand holding that whip his? 

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and asked. “Have you ever whipped anyone?”

Dead silence.

When she dared open her eyes he was looking at her as if he w
as in physical pain.

“You did
. Didn’t you?” she whispered, horrified.

“Jennifer, I’ve done dreadful things in my past. I told you I was a bad guy from the start, but you refused to believe me. Yes, I’ve hurt women, many of them. They wanted it and I thought I did
too. But I don’t. I haven’t for a long time now, even before I met you. I want you and not like that. Never like that.”

She stared at him, her mouth agape. If she hadn’t had that nightmare, she might never have asked about any of this. Now she knew. There was no going back. Ignorance really was bliss.

“Would you have told me about any of this if I hadn’t asked?”

“I started to at the beach, then, well, I got distracted.”

She thought about that night. He
had
begun to tell her something and then she’d asked him to fuck her. She winced at the memory.

“You said you were sexually adventurous and we’d talk about that later. I want to talk about it
now
. If you’re not into that kind of lifestyle, then what does sexually adventurous mean?” She automatically pulled away from him and leaned up against the car door.

He started the Ferrari, shifted the gears into reverse and backed out without saying anything. He looked at nothing but the road in front of him. His mouth was set in a firm line. She could see the muscles in his jaw tense.

“Where are we going?”

“To e.Vampire. I’ll show you the rooms. All I ask is that you reserve judgment until you listen to what I have to say before, during and after you’ve seen them.”

“I’m not sure I trust you at all right now.”

“I’ll show you everything. I promise. Maybe then you’ll trust me,” he said softly.

She glanced over at him and knew he was telling the truth, he was obviously guilt-ridden over what he’d done. He could’ve easily lied and she probably would have believed him. He hadn’t.

Looking down at his hand, gripping the stick shift so tightly, his knuckles were white, she reassuringly laid her own hand on top of his. 

He turned his head and she saw the remorse in his eyes. He looked down at her hand on his and one corner of his mouth lifted in a hint of a smile.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the ride.

When the car pulled up in front of the tall, glass and steel building, the gold letters Taylor and Van Ness, Incorporated shone under muted white lights. All around the building pale green lights fell softly on the immense, tropical foliage. The inside of the building was warmly lit as well.

Jennifer found it a little disturbing that a place like e.Vampire.com was housed in such a beautiful, high end building and hidden behind a successful business.

Thank God my membership was rejected
, she thought.

They walked through the tasteful front lobby. It boasted wealth and opulence. A large middle aged man, with salt and pepper hair and a matching mustache stood at the security desk. He was dressed in a security guard uniform and greeted Dorian immediately.

“Good evening, Mr. Taylor.” He looked at Jennifer with open curiosity.

“This is Ms. Jennifer Reese, Dominick. She’ll be assisting me this evening.”

Dominick gave her a warm, sincere smile and shook her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Reese.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too,” she said demurely, hoping like hell he thought she was a computer programmer and not some bimbo who was about to walk into a dungeon.

“He doesn’t know anything about the rooms at all. He works solely for Taylor and Van Ness,” Dorian whispered as they headed for the elevators.

“How did you . . . ?

“I know you better than you think I do Jennifer.” He exuded his usual confidence again, in total control of himself.

No surprise there. He was the master of this domain. She was in his world now. And for all the notes she’d read on what she might see and hear in one of those dungeons, she was scared. She knew damn well, reading about something and actually experiencing it were too very different things.

“I’d like you to see my office first, if you don’t mind. I think you’ll find the view quite nice.”

“Okay.”

He opened a large mahogany door with a highly polished gold name plate which read: 
Mr
.
Dorian Taylor CEO.
Underneath that was the word
Private
. “After you,” he said.

She walked in. The office was nothing like she’d thought it would be.
It was bright and airy, not at all stuffy.

His taste was impeccable. Most of the furniture was light and modern in color and texture, probably Scandinavian.  One wall had built in bookcases which were crammed full. Long, elegant cream colored drapes were drawn shut on the back wall. The office was painted in a
soothing, light beige color.

The contrast of vibrant works of art, strategically placed at a perfect distance from one another gave the room personality. Three computer monitors sat on his desk as well as a razor thin, mother of pearl colored lap-top. The desk was a cluttered mess of papers and open manuals. He was so fastidious about his personal hygiene, the way he dressed and his home it seemed out of character.

He must’ve noticed her reaction to it.

“Yes. I know it’s messy, but I know where everything is. Such is the life of a computer software designer. Not to mention, you’ve kept me quite busy as of late.” He smiled and casually walked to a corner of the room. “Draw back the drapes.”

She pulled them open and felt her breath catch in her throat. “My God, Dorian. The view is amazing!” She could see what seemed like all of Miami, the lights from this height gave the city an almost magical ambiance. And there, in the night sky, intermittent flashes of bright blue lightening pierced the sky. “This is awesome.”

He never moved toward the windows to stand beside her. He asked politely if she’d like a drink.

“Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.” For a moment she’d forgotten why they were here.

“Close the drapes.” he ordered.

Oh, yeah. The tone in his voice reminded her.

Reluctantly, she pulled the tab and shut out the beautiful vista.

Why did he want them closed? Weird,
she thought.

He handed her
a glass of sparkling champagne.

“Hmm. Champagne. It’s the one drink that’s my Achilles heel. I’ll be drunk on one glass. Do I need to be drunk to enter the dungeon? Is it that bad?”