The Stranger I Know (Dark Romance) (8 page)

I breathe. I breathe. I moan.

"You like getting broken?" he asks. He knows the answer.

His hips slam my ass with each stroke of his cock. The bare head of it making me feel things I thought impossible. The vibrator did something else this time, it made me hyper sensitive. "I do."

"Say it. Say you love being broken." He's panting, that rasp in his voice only getting me going more.

I reach up as best I can with my locked hands and rub against his arm. I feel the warm coil of chain before blindly reaching his skin. "I fucking love it when you break me."

The look I'd give him if I could see him. It would shatter coasts; pull the bay area into the fucking ocean.

The pain of his elbow against my spine and the choker taut against my neck transforms into pleasure. A twisted parody of pleasure, but just as authentic. My legs are weak and I'm struggling to keep my stomach flexed to hold me up. If I let go, the choker will perform it's named duty. I can't. I have to ride it out. Like a marathon, just... a couple...

"Ah...! James!" I cry out without a thought. I can't keep my eyes open. My body feels like it wants to explode. He growls and lets out a burdened groan, his cock pulsating with each of my ragged breaths. He slowly lowers me back to the bed and pulls his elbow off of me. My eyelashes are sticky and want to stay closed. I flush. My make up ruined. Decimated.

I'm broken. Ruined. It's the only way I can start again. Without it... I'm nothing but a pile of mistakes.

Before I can even catch my breath, he's getting dressed. I sit up to try and trace his movements through the blindfold. Just as I do, his hands are around my neck and unbuckling the choker. He uncuffs my wrists and pockets the bracelets. I'm a sticky mess. He's stashing everything away. Into his bag.

"Master...?" I begin. He's never this hurried. Never this... fast.

"Who's James?" he asks, a slight tinge of venom on his voice.

"No one important. Slip of the tongue."

He grunts in approval. "I certainly hope so. I don't need another Dom hedging in on you. You're my property."

"He's not a Dom. He's just a guy I have the..." I pause to think. I look around and feel my eyelashes stick to the blindfold. "...displeasure to work with."

He turns from me and finishes getting dressed. I'm not allowed to remove the blindfold until the door closes. That's the rule. An honor bound one.

"I have a task for you," he says. He sets something down on the nightstand. "I enjoyed your gift so much, I'd like another. Wear this for the entire workday tomorrow. Don't turn it off. I'll know if you do."

I nod slowly, trying to recognize what it is he set down by the sound of it. It isn't very big.

"When the day is over, we'll meet again. Call me when you're ready to give-in. Then, I want to see how filthy you can be."

The vibrator. "Yes, sir." I agree without a thought. He chuckles and opens the door.

After a pregnant pause, the heavy door locks shut again. I can faintly hear his footsteps walking down the hall.

I untie the blindfold and drop it on the bed. The sheets are crumpled up under my legs. The fitted sheet is pulled off the top. The vibrator is blue. It sits right side up on the nightstand.

I'm sweaty. A mess. I need to shower before leaving. I can't put a blindfold on everyone who will see me leaving. That'd be too convenient.

***

I
look in the mirror and judge his work. My neck has deep red lines etched in it from the collar. My temples are red from the tight binding of the blindfold. A bruise is glowing on one of my hips. My ass is sore. I look like a fucking wreck, and nothing could make my smile bigger. My neck isn't sore. My shoulders don't ache. My body and brain are ill with chemicals, the ones I need. The ones I lack all day long. Perfect.

A wet fog washes over the mirror as the shower grows hot. As my reflection disappears, I curl the curtain open and step into the shower. The water splashes against my chest and sprays the wall.

Why did I scream James' name? I can't fathom it. I try and replay the last moments of our climax, but I can't replicate it. There are no words that can really describe that rush in my blood. A thrill awakens from the ache. The tight knot that was building inside.

I'll have to work it out when I get home. Otherwise I'll be hobbling around work tomorrow like an old woman. I need to look good. Perfect.

I'm broken. I can heal. I can fix myself now.

A
fter the shower, I snatch the towel off the rack and pat myself dry. A strange feeling is stuck in my gut. I don't feel alone in the hotel room, like I did when I climbed into the shower. Did the Stranger come back? I can't shake the chilling sensation.

He has to be out there in the room. Waiting for me. I imagine him sitting, with his bag on the ground... no. He'd be standing. His arms crossed. My heart races at the image. We'd never arranged to meet early in the week before now, so maybe he wants to punish me for it.

The bizarre feeling vanishes as I step out of the bathroom. The hotel room is empty. The bed is still a mess. My clothes are crumpled and balled into a heap near the head of the bed. As I grab a hold of a pant leg, I realize it's trapped between the headboard and the mattress. Ridiculous. I yank it free. I pull the extra pair of panties I keep in my pocket whenever I know I'll be meeting the Stranger. After the first few times... either my underwear was too stretched and torn to wear, or missing. Naughty.

As I finish getting dressed, the blue cylinder on the nightstand catches my eye. I cross around the bed to pick it up. Still moist, but cold. He said I have to wear it all day tomorrow and prove it to him, as if it would be a homework assignment I'd procrastinate on. No, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

But at the same time, it's strange. I've worked hard to make
this
separate from my real life, and having the two start to intersect just for a bit of fun could end bad for me.

I clench the vibrator in my hand as I think back to firing Stacie. Back to James shrugging my tactics off, like I was a weak nobody. I'm not.

I slip the vibrator into my pocket and leave the hotel. The Stranger always leaves a hundred dollar bill on the dresser for the maids. God knows if they've probably had to throw away some of the bedding we've tortured.

***

I
keep my head hung low as I cross the lobby from the elevators to the main entrance. It's late and there's only one person manning the desk, but I still just don't want to even think about dealing with it. I've learned that if I hang my head low enough and look pissed off, they'll usually leave me alone. Looking sad didn't work the first time — it just got me hit on. That's the last thing that'd interest me after being with my Dom. Anyone else just looks like wet paper.

I shake my head and I realize I'm in my car, driving back home. I don't recall the walk from the lobby to the garage. A hypnosis kind of, trapped in my wandering thoughts. The vibrator digs into my thigh as a reminder. Why did I cry out James' name? It must've been the dream from last night. That's the only thing I can think of.

The last thing I'd want is for James to be towering over me, pinning me down, holding me against a couch arm. The last thing that I'd want is... his hand pulling my panties, then his cock thrusting into me. I shake my head and clench the wheel and my jaw.

My teeth ache.

I can't be this stressed after seeing my Dom. That isn't how this works.

Back home, I undress and prepare for bed. I already showered, so there's little to do but climb under the covers and pass out. It's around two in the morning. Too late for me to be up with Michael on my ass about this merger. I need to get up at six and get shit figured out.

I set the vibrator down on my nightstand, and for a blink of an eye, you could swear it never left its place back at the hotel. The lights are off and my room is barely lit by the moonlight peeking over the blinds. Pitch black to me.

If I'm so stressed... maybe having 'homework' like this is exactly what I need. My secret life is bleeding into my real one. That'll keep me distracted. Keep me sharp.

But, I just hope it doesn't create a lethal reaction, like gas on a wild fire.

The mailroom. Firing Stacie. Everything. I've always played with fire. I wouldn't be where I am now if I hadn't.

Marcy, how long did you think you could play with fire before it'd burn you to ashes?

That's the last thought that makes sense.

***

I
wake up with a start and throw all my sheets to the floor. I shiver with surprise and fold my body from the cold. Why is it so fucking cold? I throw on my robe and move to the thermostat.

It says it's set, but no heat is coming. It must be broken. More shit to deal with. I'll have to call an HVAC company when I get to work.

I dress for a morning jog. It's earlier than I expected, and I don't feel nearly as tired as I should. It'll catch up to me if I let it.

My breath freezes against my upturned collar and scarf. The last couple weeks have all been like this: bleached sky, empty trees and hard earth. The only sound my breathing, the cold raking my throat, and my hard foot falls on the concrete.

I'd use my treadmill, but I need the cold energy.

I get back inside my condo and start heating up coffee. There's little point in undressing since it's just as cold inside as it is outside. With a mug of hot steaming coffee tight between my fingers, I feel a little better.

I sit down on a stool at my kitchen counter and stare at the clock on the microwave. It ticks over a minute. I take a deep breath and drag a sip into my mouth, almost scorching my tongue. The warmth spreads through me nicely. My cheeks thaw and flush.

I choke the rest of the drink down, before slamming the mug on the counter so hard I can't believe it doesn't shatter in my hand.

I'm on edge and for the first time, I really don't know why. It feels later in the week than it is, and that must be from visiting the Stranger last night.

Leaving the kitchen, I go into my room and get ready for work. I pause at the threshold of my room before retreating and grabbing the vibrator the Stranger left me with. My assignment.

***

B
ack at work, I forget for a brief second that I fired Stacie. After Michael chewed me out for it, I half-expected to see her back in her place this morning, but she isn't. Gwen nods at me and I give her a polite smile, but I feel anything but. Before poking into my office, I lean over her desk and peek at her monitor. My schedule looks untouched.

"No unannounced schedules today?" I ask. She jumps a little, before looking over her shoulder at me.

"Uh, yeah. If you mean James. He didn't come in and make me enter anything. You just have your noon appointment with Michael to go over your assignment."

My heart skips a beat as her lips go over the last word. I realize what she means, but I probably already look too weirded out to explain anything.

I pat her on the shoulder and let my hand slip off her as I open my office door and step inside. She did good, but I don't feel good.

At least I'll be able to meet with James on my own terms today.

I set my purse down on my desk and the mouth of it opens and a blue glint shines from inside. I forgot what I promised. I can't disappoint... even though I'm still unsure if I should be letting this blurring of lives happen in the first place. Won't people hear it?

After double checking my blinds are closed and my door screen drawn down, I reach into my purse and pull the vibrator out. It's the size of a tampon, maybe larger. I click the button on the bottom and it whirs to life. It has a dial, but turning it doesn't do anything. I frown. It's way too intense for me to handle all day.

I don't have a choice. Not obeying his command could make me lose him as my Dom, and I don't have time to go through and find a new one. With all the bullshit I have to put up with, I can't afford that.

I pull my pants down, bringing them inside out and exposing my pockets. I slip my panties down far enough to slip the vibrator inside my pussy. It's smooth texture is a bit chilled, but... apparently I'm wet enough from just thinking about it that it goes in without a hitch. It feels like it's rocking my bones, a slight buzz echoing through my body. I fall onto my desk and clench the edges to try and steady myself. My knees are already buckling from being reminded of last night. My mind is on fire. My heart is sweating. I manage to let go of the desk with a hand and hike my clothes back on. I need to sit down, but the movement over to my chair seems impossible. Even worse, what if sitting makes the vibration even more obvious? I push the doubt away, exposing it for the foggy dream it really is, and slowly side step around the desk. It's like I'm on ice skates for the first time, following the wall with weak arms and doing everything I can to keep my feet from sliding out and slamming my ass on the ice.

I was right, at least, about the feeling. Sitting down only intensifies the sensation, and if I think about it hard enough, I can feel it travel into the chair. I have to test it. I have to.

I pick up my receiver and call my secretary inside.

"Yes?" Gwen says, opening my door and only stepping halfway in.

I hold up a finger to her and wave for her to come closer. She shuts the door and wordlessly cross the room to the front of my desk. I turn my head, listening for the vibration. I can't separate it from myself.

"Do you hear that?" I ask her. I make myself look concerned.

She squints her eyes and tilts her head, moving around the room like a radar. "I think... just the air conditioning."

She's right, the air conditioning is on, well, the heater. Good so far. "No, it's different, like a..." I wish I could think of a different way of putting it, "a whir, maybe like a fly?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing, Ms. Stone. Have you had your coffee today?"

If she can't hear it, then I should be okay. There's no way she knows that it was a game for me, she couldn't have failed. "I haven't, actually," I lie. I wipe my forehead. "That's probably what I need."