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When he returned, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, still wearing those absurdly expensive earrings and the high heeled gladiator sandals that came up to my knees. He stopped abruptly, his eyes brimming with excitement; so vastly different from the apathetic look that was usually there. You did that, the thought snuck in. He offered his hand while his eyes traveled from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he murmured. His compliments always came at unexpected moments. Caught by surprise, a rosy glow colored my cheeks. His eyes turned sultry, hungry, as he pulled me up against his naked body. Nimbly, he removed the earrings from my lobes and rubbed them. The priceless jewels were tossed carelessly on the bedside table like they were rhinestones. Then, taking my hand, he dragged me out of the bedroom.
The lights had been dimmed, painting the bathroom with a romantic luminescence. An enormous tub sat in the middle. A mother of pearl mosaic floor twinkled under our feet. He pushed me down to sit on the edge of the tub and held my foot up while he unzipped the sandals, throwing one by one aside. Total proficiency born out of practice, in this too.
How many others had there been? A pinch of jealousy popped up. So that’s what that feels like. Then an echo of words heard not too long ago intruded…by the time my father married his mother he had moved onto saving larger animals…how depressing.
I sank down to my chin in frothy bubbles. Even though the water was hot, my skin acclimated easily. Water splashed over the sides as he stepped in and sat behind me, his long legs encasing mine. Not leaving any distance between us, he hugged me tightly and kissed my temple.
“We’ve made a mess,” I giggled.
“It’s a wet bath. It’ll drain.”
The scent of something exotic, deep and earthy, drifted up in the steam of the hot water. He poured the oil in his large hands, and began massaging my back with quick, deep strokes of his thumbs. Starting around the base of my neck, he worked his way south, a warm flush spreading through my veins the lower he went. I exhaled deeply and closed my eyes. “You’re good at this.” He was great at it actually. I could barely keep my head up.
“Not nearly as good as you are.”
“I’m glad I can do that for you.” He answered with a soft kiss on the back of my neck. “Sebastian?”
“Hmm.”
“I have a million questions.”
I felt his smile on my shoulder blade. He nipped me, soothing it afterwards with a lick that made me shiver. “I thought you would.”
“That place––they know you there?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you go often?” Silence. I could feel him weighing how much to reveal and what the consequences would be.
“I used to…before the accident.”
“While you were married? With your wife?” I couldn’t keep the bewilderment out of my voice.
“No, before that.” His skilled hands traveled to my breast, where he teased my nipples into hard, little peaks. My breath quickened and my eyes fought a losing battle to stay open.
“If you’re trying to distract me––”
Chuckling, he whispered seductively, “I didn’t think it would be that easy.”
“Were you ever in the rooms, while other people watched?” Silence again, except for swish of the water.
“Yes…does that bother you?”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about it yet. My tangled, messy emotions were still too fresh and close to the surface. I needed time––time to process way too much information. “With that German woman I found you kissing?” I asked hesitantly. My voice held a bitter edge.
He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, his lips resting on the curve of my neck. I felt the muffled ‘yes’ on my skin. Leaning forward, I pulled away from him but he held on tighter. “Don’t.”
“I just want you to consider how you would feel if you found me kissing someone else.”
His whole body stiffened. “There would be blood on my hands and you would find yourself standing next to a corpse.” Grasping my chin a shade too firmly, he looked into my face. “Don’t ever test how seriously I mean that.” His eyes were fire and ice, reflecting the indisputable conviction in his words.
“Tell me about that place.”
He released my chin and returned to massaging my shoulders. My curiosity was raging but did I really want to know? Just hearing about little miss sauerkraut put me in a jealous tailspin. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “It’s a private club that caters to people’s…unique tastes. Voyeurism, bdsm, s&m, whatever you’re into.”
“What are you into?” Incurably curious. It was an affliction. I had to know––even though I was scared of the answer.
He shrugged, pausing to carefully chose his words. “I like control. No, that’s not true. I need it. Places like that––anonymity is essential, and after my accident…the scar, it’s too identifiable.” That answer only begged a thousand more questions. Did he stop because of his wife? Did he love her that much? “What you saw tonight was pretty tame.”
