Vow of Silence (16 page)

“I hardly think so.”

“You aren’t hearing the excitement in your voice. I am.
You’re so hot to be watched you can’t stand it.”

“You’re crazy.” I shift nervously in my seat. I won’t admit
that my pussy is throbbing at the thought. He would make it happen. I have no
doubt about that. He has no shame. He has no moral conscience. The rest of the
drive is in complete silence. I start to imagine all of the places he might
take me and publicly humiliate me but he pulls to a stop in front of my loft,
leaving me relieved—and slightly disappointed.

Parked at the curb, he leaves the car idling and doesn’t
unbuckle. I’ve become so accustomed to him walking around the car to open my
door, it seems an odd change of character that he makes no attempt to. “You
aren’t going to see me in?”

“I’m trying to decide what to do with you.”

“Do with me?”

“You don’t fit the tidy little package I fabricated for you
in my mind anymore.”

“What does that mean?” I can feel my ire rising, and I’m
sure it’s evident in my voice. It wouldn’t be the first time a man treated me
like garbage after learning the truth.

“I’ve been so afraid of offending you, of scaring you away,
and now it seems we are on a more even playing field.”

“I’m not kinky.”

“You called yourself a nymphomaniac—a slut—and that’s
telling in itself. You’re ashamed of your past promiscuity.”

“Regretful.”

“If that were true you’d be pursuing someone who could make
you clean again, not someone who will sully you even more.”

I don’t know what to say.

“I think you thought if you could turn my life around, it
would in someway prove that you could be a better person too.”

“Are you analyzing me?”
Nothing like having my every
thought thoroughly examined to cool the flames of desire.
He arches his
eyebrow. “I’m attracted to you.”

“Yes, but why? Maybe subconsciously you want to be sullied. Maybe
you’re tired of living in an uptight world with too many rules.”

I blink at him, wondering if he’s right. “Or we were
connected in a previous life and our souls long to be reacquainted.”

“Or you just want someone to tell you that it’s okay to give
in to your sexual fantasies.”

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from
screaming.
I don’t have any sexual fantasies.
“You give me too much
credit.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asks, though I’m positive I
didn’t say that aloud.

I meet his gaze and blush. I will not admit that he makes me
think of things I’ve never considered before. Or that I’m disappointed he
didn’t take me home with him, spank me soundly and tuck me into his bed.

“You have to tell me what you want. What you need. I can’t
guess, Lin.”

I look away, unable to keep gazing into his eyes and
unwilling to let him see into mine.
Why do we always keep ending up back at
square one?
“I leave tomorrow night.”

“Exactly. All the more reason to stop playing games. I love
you. I want to spend every second with you until you get on that plane. I want
to bring some of your fantasies to life.”

I’m so tempted. I lick my lips, which seem suddenly too dry.
“Can we start with one of your fantasies?”

When he doesn’t answer I turn my head to face him once more.
He smiles wickedly at me, and I wonder what he’s thinking but I’m too afraid to
ask.

I insist, “At your house. Not here.” He gives me a strange
look that forces me to explain. “Grandmother lives on the ground floor. I don’t
want her to hear us.”

“Did she comment the last time I was here?”

“I don’t think she realized, but I can’t risk waking her.
Surely you understand?”

“You’d be more comfortable at my place.”

It doesn’t seem like a question, so I don’t answer. He’s
right. I need to start opening my mouth and expressing my needs.

“Have you even considered I don’t want you to be
comfortable? That maybe I need you to feel vulnerable?”

His questions take me by surprise, making things low in my
belly needy. I squirm in my seat, not meeting his gaze.

He strokes my cheek, lifts my chin and claims my mouth with
an intensity that steals my breath. I respond, matching his force, leaving us
both gasping into each other’s mouths.

I admit, “I keep thinking about earlier, having sex on the
floor of your office.”

He nuzzles my neck, dropping kisses that send jolts of
electricity racing down my spine to leave my pussy dripping. “Because it seemed
like a public place, even though no one was watching?”

“Someone could have intruded,” I insist. “I felt so
naughty.”

“I like being naughty with you.” He unhooks the halter
closure of my dress.

“We can’t.” I catch his hands just before the fall of fabric
would expose my breasts. “Someone might see.”

“I’m counting on it.”

George jerks the fabric down and lowers his lips to one of
my breasts. When he sucks my nipple, pleasure rips through me from tit to womb.
“George!”

He stops drawing on my flesh only long enough to ask, “What
part did you like best about being in my office?”

Being on my knees with him standing over me immediately
comes to mind. I was so worried…the anticipation of not knowing if he would
spank me…or fuck me. Cars drive by and I imagine anyone who looks over will see
what he’s up to. “I can’t think with you doing that!”

He stops sucking. He pinches and pulls the tight buds.
Looking down at my breasts, I see that they are caught in the spotlight of the
overhead streetlamps. I try to cover myself but he bats my hands away. He pulls
my nipple harder, pinching cruelly.

“George!”

“You tell me you are a slut but you don’t act like one
around me. What is the truth?”

I struggle against his hands, which are painfully everywhere
all at once.

“Is this your dirty little secret? You like being in public
places? You’re only a slut with complete strangers? Maybe you like the fear
that comes with worrying you might get caught but when you’re under the
magnifying glass—like when the photographers took our photos together—it
becomes too much and you think you can cry uncle and escape unscathed.”

When I don’t answer him he exits the car and comes around to
my door and pulls me from the car roughly. I think he will throttle me but he
only walks me up to my loft.

I allow him to come inside with me but stand facing him
awkwardly in the small foyer. I’ve already made my stand. We won’t be having
sex
here
.

“You can’t play games with me, Lin.”

“I’m not playing.”

“You knew I was falling in love with you when I broke things
off the first time. You knew that you would have to make a commitment to
explore the lifestyle with me if you wanted to keep seeing me. I didn’t even
insist on making you my slave—I just wanted you to try kink on for size.” He
shakes me.

“I’m scared.”

“Of me?” He stops shaking me but he holds my upper arms
painfully.

“Of myself! I wasn’t lying when I said I went a little
crazy. I was having sex with too many men. I was an addict searching for the
Holy Grail. I’d never experienced an orgasm and I wasn’t about to go into
another marriage without finding a man who could make it happen.”

George cocks his eyebrow. “And did you find such a man?”

“I orgasmed for the first time with a total stranger—in a
broom closet. I didn’t know if it was the man or the fear of getting caught.” I
start laughing. I can’t help myself. “I’m just like Gigi. I could be the girl
in a hospital bed right now. That’s my dirty little secret.”

George leads me to the sofa and we sit. “The man in the
broom closet was the same man you saw in the alcove tonight?”

“Yes. Since that night, I’ve learned his name is Johnny.”

“You learned how?”

I look away, ashamed and embarrassed, but George forces me
to meet his gaze. “He told all of the men in our community. There isn’t a
single man of Chinese descent who would even consider a date with me.
Grandmother discovered my disgrace when she approached a matchmaker and was
laughed out of the shop.”

George looks at me with tenderness and compassion, not
disgust, and I am almost sorry I did not tell him the truth from the start. He
strokes my cheek tenderly. “Lin. How many men other than your husband have you
been intimate with?”

Oh God. Why would he ask me this? “Three.”

“Including Johnny?”

I nod, embarrassed. I assume he thinks me a fool for being
so upset. I know that he is acquainted with women who have had sex with ten
times as many men, but I am not of their ilk. I was raised to be modest and
proper above all else.

Without warning, George pulls me facedown over his lap.

“No! George!” My heart is pounding so hard I think it will
explode. I know what he intends and struggle, but he holds me in such a way
that I can’t get away, no matter how hard I try. I’m gasping with exertion when
his hand falls over my ass.

I can’t believe this is happening. My pulse pounds so loudly
in my ears it drowns out the sound of anything else. I see white light before
my eyes. Rage? Fear?

He spanks me hard, his hand alternating between my left and
right cheeks.

“God! Oh God!” I feel so helpless. And when he finally
releases me I flee to the other side of the room. I press up against the wall,
my bottom smarting and heart racing. I think I am going to cry. “Why did you do
that?”

“You wanted me to.”

“No,” I deny, but I think we are both beginning to hear my
lies as just that. “That isn’t true.”

“Is your heart racing? Palms sweating? Do you feel more
alive than you ever have?”

Yes. God, yes.
“I feel angrier than I’ve ever felt!”

“Do you feel violated?”

“Hell, yes. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Are you aroused?”

No!
I won’t admit that having him spank me felt
sexual. “I’m not kinky!”

“I disagree.”

“You think everyone is sexually deviant.”

He doesn’t argue that. Standing, he smiles and the sight of
it makes me shiver. He enjoyed spanking me.

“I think you are far too inhibited for your own good. If you
could just let go of all the taboos you’ve been brainwashed into believing, you
could admit that you are completely and utterly horny right now, but instead
you worry about what your dead ancestors are thinking.”

I gasp, knowing he is right. I do worry about what my mother
thinks. It’s my grandmother’s fault for always talking about how the ancestors
look down on us. The first time I was kissed by a boy, I was so mortified I
couldn’t enjoy the kiss because I just knew my mother was watching.

Too late I realize George has edged closer and I am startled
back to awareness when he takes my hand. “Let go of your fear, Lin. There is no
one here judging you.”

“I can’t.”

He wraps his arm around me, pulling me into a hug and I do
cry, not sobs, but softly. I let him hold me and comfort me. His hands are so
gentle as he rubs my back. I don’t understand anything that I feel when I am
with him…including that I do want him to push me to do naughty things.

His hands drop lower, rubbing my ass and bringing my thoughts
back to the spanking he just gave me. My skin flames beneath his palms.

He whispers against my face, “Tell me you liked it, Lin.”

I shake my head, burying my face against his shoulder.
Stubborn, oh yes, I am stubborn. In rebellion my pussy tightens. I am so damn
horny, but I won’t admit it.

I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.

I think that he will leave now. It is over. One hundred
percent. I try to not start crying again. When he turns to face me I expect
“goodbye” but instead he slides out of his clothes. He makes undressing look so
easy, even taking off his shoes and socks without looking awkward. But then
he’s had so much practice. I’m offended by the fact that he’s a sex worker and
still…

He stands before me nude, waiting. He is pale and well
defined, like a marble statue, and I want to reach out to him. I want this—so
badly—but when is the point of no return? I’m supposed to be changing him but
he could more easily change me. Lifting my face, I offer him my lips and become
a participant. Again. All my grandmother’s warnings going out the window. I
will never be a bride, a wife, a mother, not if I keep giving it away for free.
When will I learn?

I’m a little surprised when the kiss ends abruptly and he
stalks across the room. Power flows off him. Challenge. I can respect his
strength, but does he really think I’m going to follow him if he leads me to my
bedroom?

“Come here.”

I take a deep breath and stand my ground.

“Crawl,” he commands.

I fall to my knees. I don’t think about it, I just do it.

Crawling toward George, my mind goes insane with images that
should not be there. I could see myself collared, leashed—but if I gave into
that fantasy how could I ever make any future dreams a reality?
Quit
thinking. Quit worrying.

I crawl all the way to his bare toes and look up at him, the
line of his long pale body unmarked by any imperfection. It is like staring up
at a raised statue created by an Old World master. He is a god, and it is the
most natural act to slide my hands up his legs. The fine hair covering his body
is silky and I long to nuzzle against it. Need beyond my control leads me to do
just that, and I rub my cheek over the softness of his thighs as I cup his ass.
I hug him into me. He is erect and his penis bobs slightly, making me long to
suck, but I’m not given the chance. George pulls me to my feet and kisses my
face—jaw, cheekbones, eyelashes, nose, saving my lips until the last moment.

His fingers cradle my face as our tongues dance together,
and then he slides his finger between my lips.