Roxy Harte (23 page)
Authors: Sacred Revelations
“Share,” I growl. She harrumphs but acquiesces, taking elaborate measures to make sure I’m comfortably covered. “Good girl, thank you.”
She lies down on her pillow, watching me.
“Garrett?” George’s voice bellows over the phone. “Is everything all right?”
I smile at Kitten, “Everything’s wonderful, George. I just wanted someone there to know that we won’t be there. So, you’ll take care of things?”
“Oh sure, I’ll take care of everything. Fyre’s gone, you’re gone, Morgana called in with the flu, right, like I believe that. I was at that party, too, damn it…”
“Thank you, George,” I cut him off mid-sentence, clicking my cell phone closed with a sigh. “We’re playing hooky tonight.”
“Thank God.”
I laugh at her heartfelt response.
“I don’t know about you, but damn, that was a helluva party.”
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“You throw a mean party, Kitten.”
“Do you think we could do it again?” she asks, pulling the blanket up under her chin, looking very innocent. “We could make it a once-a-month event!”
“Dear lord, Kitten,” I groan. “Ask me again after I’ve recovered completely from this party.” I use the last of my energy to swat her behind, making her giggle and rub against me sweetly. “Go to sleep.”
* * * *
Lazy, I call for the limo, usually reserved for special occasions and PR moments. Tonight, it’s pure lethargy. That and I want to hold Kitten in the backseat. I torment her terribly, pinching her nipples and teasing her clit through her satin panties.
“I love to touch you,” I growl, hugging her tight.
She reaches up to stroke my cheek. “I love to touch you, Master.”
Too soon, we are pulling up in front of Lewd Larry’s. I almost ask to be driven around the block again, just to play with her more; however, feeling slightly guilty, but not too much, I get us into the club before the public doors open.
It gives us a chance to walk through the lower levels to the elevator without excessive scrutiny. I allow Kitten to walk beside me, though we don’t hold hands. I find myself wanting to hold her hand as we walk. If the doors had already been open and guests present, she would have had to crawl behind me.
Inside the elevator, I press her back against the glass wall, kissing her, holding her hands high above her head. “I want to bind you tonight.”
“Yes,” she hisses.
It has been a long time since I’ve played with her at the club. Tonight, I decide, I want to play. If I have to be here, I want to enjoy it completely.
“How do you want to bind me?” she whispers, her voice shaking just a little. It pleases me that I can get such an intense response from her with just a few words.
“Leather cuffs around your wrists, your arms pulled high over your head, stretching you onto your tiptoes.”
“And then?”
“I don’t know.” I kiss her nose as the elevator doors spring open. “When I decide, you’ll be the first to know.”
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In the middle of the hallway, I stop to kiss her.
“Are you recovered fully from the party?” she teases.
“Why?” I ask, intrigued.
“Just wondering if we could do it all over again?”
Every nerve ending in my body springs to attention with her question.
“Mr. Lawrence?” I turn with slight irritation to my waiting secretary, sending Kitten into my office to wait for me while I get a report on last night’s numbers from the main office. I am pleased to find that the public numbers were staggering, but then any time something special happens at Lewd’s that pulls major news coverage, our public numbers go through the roof. I didn’t watch the news to see if Jackie’s party rated high on the publicity charts, but knowing Jackie, she sold them exclusive video footage from inside the Masquerade Ball.
I’m not surprised to see the members-only numbers are low, very low. Jackie’s little birthday bash had a significant effect on attendance but not on overall income. Thus assured everything went smoothly in my absence, I make my way to my office and Kitten.
“Miss me?” I ask from the doorway.
Standing beside my desk, she is distracted, stroking the top of my computer monitor with reverence.
This is the third time I’ve caught her this way, looking at the keyboard with intense longing. It makes me jealous and envious.
“Kitten?”
“Hmmm?” she asks, utterly distracted She sits in my desk chair, touching the keyboard, not turning on the computer. Her fingers fly across the keys, her eyes close and a tear slides down her cheek. Shoulders slumping, she stands and walks away from the computer, sighing heavily. She walks to the window and looks down at the forming line, forgetting that I am even here or that we were having a conversation.
She’s a writer. I’m not sure when I’d forgotten and maybe never considered what she’d given up to be here with me. I remember my first year away from the hospital, holding a butter knife would make me long for the smell of disinfectant. I made the choice to walk away from medicine and still it took years to not regret the decision. Some mornings, I still wonder. No one gave her a choice. She deserves time to be herself in addition to being mine. I don’t mention it now, but I add this latest revelation to my things to do for Kitten list.
I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around her waist to pull her hips into my groin as I rest my chin on her shoulder. “You were asking me if we could do something again, Kitten, but you didn’t tell me exactly what it is you want to do again?” I whisper, sucking her earlobe between my lips.
Her eyes close and she sighs.
“The Masquerade Party,” she answers. “I was thinking that everyone had so much fun, we should do it again. A new tradition maybe, like Margarita Movie Mayhem Sundays, just for our friends, or if you think the members would be interested, we could offer it every three or four months as a gala, extra charge for admission of course.” Her eyes open and she looks over my chin as I continue sucking her
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earlobe. “Well?”
I release her lobe, kissing her cheek, “You’re expecting a response?”
“You hate the idea.” She pouts.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Kitten. I’ll bring it up at the next board meeting.”
“Oh.” She turns back to the crowd, but I feel her disappointment at not receiving a more enthusiastic response. “The line seems small tonight.”
I peek over her shoulder, looking down the three stories to the sidewalk below. Ten early arrivals make a ragtag line. Tourists. “Still early. I’m not worried.” I kiss her shoulder, “I need to make an appearance in the kitchen tonight, you going with me or staying?”
“If I stay in your office, will you lock me in the cage?”
Her question takes me by surprise, I’ve never locked her inside the cage Lord Fyre designed and had made for her since having it delivered to the office. It is here more as a reminder, though I’m not sure who I’m reminding, her or me. “Do you wish to be locked in the cage?”
“It will keep me from being bad if you lock me in the cage, and I really don’t like going to the kitchens.”
I applaud her honesty, some of the kitchen staff make her nervous, the head chef especially, having made a crude remark in her presence the last time we toured. She doesn’t know that he was severely reprimanded.
“What could you possibly think of doing in my office that would get you in trouble, Kitten?”
She looks at the floor and shuffles her feet. It makes me wonder what she’s done in my office in the past that is making her act this way tonight.
“When you left me alone the last time,” she admits, “I turned on your computer.”
Her admission leaves me no choice but to punish her. “Feeling guilty?”
“Yes.”
“You thought you could keep this secret from me?”
“Yes.” She drops to her knees, pressing her cheek to the top of my dress shoe. “I’m sorry.”
“What did you do on the computer, Kitten? Surf the web? Chat rooms? Porn sites?”
She gasps. “No! None of those! I only opened Microsoft Word. I wrote.”
“I hope what you wrote was worth getting spanked for.”
She actually thinks about it for a moment. “Yes.” Her eyes drop to the ground. “I started a journal, I don’t want to forget any of what we share…ever. And when I am old, too old to believe I ever did these things with you, I will be able to read my journal and remember the truth of what we shared.
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Pulling her into my arms, I know I am too soft on her, but could I really punish her when it is all I can do not to cry with the emotions she brings out in me. “I’ll be beside you to remind you, Kitten.”
She looks up into my face. “Promise?”
“For the memory of love is sweet, though the love itself were in vain. And what I have lost of pleasure, assuage what I find of pain.”
-Lyster
Kitten
Life suddenly takes on the calm routine I remember from pre-kidnapping, pre-Lord Fyre, when I was the beloved pet of Master Garrett Lawrence. I never really thought of him as either Lewd Larry or Lord Ice, though I knew going into the undercover assignment that he sometimes used those aliases. I saw Lewd Larry on stage, showman extraordinaire, and I wonder what it will take for me to get acquainted with Lord Ice and then I wonder if I really want to know. For some reason the name Lord Ice scares me.
Most days, I awaken to coffee, taken in sips from my Master’s mouth, followed by a finger-fed breakfast, strawberries are my favorite, followed by banana pieces; however, he sometimes feeds me fresh peach slices, not my favorite, his, and he says that he likes my mouth to taste of peaches. I suppose it is still considered breakfast, though most days we eat our first meal between two and three, depending on when we wake up. Master rarely sets an alarm, so we wake up when we wake up.
Life is routine but strange. I like dawn. I miss dawn. The only time I see the sun rise now is if it was a very late night at Lewd Larry’s and we happen to drive home while the sun breaks the horizon. I suppose I could rejoice in the sunsets as we drive to the club each night, but it just isn’t the same as breaking day.
Life is taking on a routine so complete that there is no unexpected. Sadly, the excitement of the evening is waiting for someone to misbehave or request a scene in the Oasis room. I miss talking to Jackie, I miss Margarita Sundays, I miss…no, I won’t even think it, I am over my obsession completely. My problem is that I am not comforted by routine. Once I was, I went to great lengths to guarantee routine.
That is why today is special, not because it is my birthday, though it is, Master doesn’t know that, but because we are going out! This is not routine. He took me out only once before; we went to the aquarium and the wharf. He doesn’t tell me where we are going. He tells me only to dress for a day amongst the mundane, the non-community, meaning I should wear clothes that aren’t see-through and sensible shoes.
I am so excited I could orgasm just on the thought of doing something other than what we do each day.
Though I won’t complain, I love the way Master cares for me. I will not miss the adrenaline rush that was Lord Fyre. As Master leads me to his car, I pray he at least drives with the top down today. It is sunny and warm, the breeze in my face would be most welcome.
“Buckle up, Kitten.” He closes the door after I am seated. I watch him walk around the car before climbing into the driver’s seat. God, he is beautiful to look at. Tall and well-built and his Ralph Lauren hangs on him like he is a runway model. He catches me watching him through the windshield and he smiles at me. I can’t help but smile back. I am as excited as a girl going on a first date and solely because
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we are not going to the club. I rub my hands over my jean-covered thigh. There’s something about blue jeans. Naked everyday should seem exotic, but it isn’t. Pulling on a pair of blue jeans after not wearing blue jeans for almost three months…that was exotic. Closing his door, we are entombed in silence together. For a moment, we just look at each other. “What are you thinking, Kitten?”
“I’m excited that we’re going out, but…” I glance down and pull my lip between my teeth. His thumb pulls my lip back out before he captures my chin and forces me to look up and meet his eyes. I swallow.
“…I’m just nervous.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Kitten. We’re just spending the day out.” He chuckles and starts the car, pulling out into the maze of parked cars and descending ramps.
I sigh. That’s what I’m afraid of, spending the day out like normal people. I’m not normal anymore. His pronouncement also makes me a little sad. Just a day out, meaning, no scene, no adrenaline rush.
I tell myself, when my skin feels all tingly and my heart pounds super hard for no reason, my skeleton wanting to leap out, that it is the adrenaline rush I miss, not Lord Fyre, and when that happens, I admit, I sometimes misbehave. If anything, the club is a distraction and I am the lead attraction, my naughty Kitten antics are becoming so commonplace that even my punishment doesn’t raise my heartbeat. I enjoy the isolation sphere though…my secret adrenaline rush.
We ride in silence. The sun is bright and Master thoughtfully provides a pair of sunglasses. Putting them on, I pull down the visor and expose the vanity mirror, surprised at how normal I look. No one would know by looking at me that I am the naughty pampered pet of Garrett Lawrence. No one would know by looking at me the dark thoughts I have lurking in my brain. I glance at the man beside me. He glances too and for a moment I fear he can read my thoughts, but no, he smiles and I smile. Not even he needs to know what I think about. I sigh again, heavier, thinking my thoughts would terrify him.
