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“Don’t give me that. You have a”—she clears her throat—“sex life I knew nothing about until days ago. And you came to me last night, and you weren’t okay then.”
“Maybe I got over it.”
“And maybe you’re lying.”
“Tell you what… Let’s make a deal. You tell me why you’re wearing a corset, and I’ll tell you why I came to your place last night.”
She smiles. “Okay, if you want to play it that way. I bought a corset because I’ve never owned one before. I’m intrigued by the idea.”
“You’re intrigued by a corset?”
She glances down at the table. “Yeah. Is that so hard to believe?”
“It’s absolutely hard to believe. Corsets went out of style about two hundred years ago. They’re restrictive and really, really sexist.” There. That ought to get her. Mandy’s nothing if not an ardent feminist.
“It just so happens that Mary, the salesclerk who sold me this one, mentioned she’s fit men for corsets before. And as for being in style, I seem to recall seeing a couple women wearing them at your club.”
I jerk my head around. “Mandy, you can’t mention that place here.”
“I can’t mention that I went to a club? I didn’t say where it was. I’ll never say its name. I understand the document I signed.”
She’s right, of course. Talking about a club is not against her nondisclosure agreement. And talking about it with me—the person who took her there—is certainly fine as well.
The damned place didn’t scare her.
It didn’t scare her at all.
But maybe it still could. Maybe I can get her off Lustr once and for all.
“Would you like to go back to the club, Mandy?”
She blushes. Oh my God, the tops of her breasts, very visible in the corset, are the same beautiful pink as her cheeks.
I never got to play with those breasts, never got to suck on those beautiful little nipples.
My groin tightens unbearably.
“I would, actually.”
Fuck. Not the answer I wanted but the one I expected. I have to go all in now.
“Fine. Let’s eat our sushi. Then we’ll go back.” We sure will, and I’ll make sure, this time, that she never wants to return.
And we’ll work whatever this is between us out of our systems once and for all. Surely that’s possible. I don’t question if it’s really what I want. It is.
“You’re not exactly dressed for it,” she says.
“No, but you are. There’s no required dress code at the club. Surely you figured that out after your time there.”
“I did, and I felt very free. You can walk in wearing normal clothes, or you can walk around naked. Or you can wear a corset. Or leather. Or pasties and a thong.”
Her blush is driving me senseless.
Mandy in pasties and a thong.
I’ve got to get a grip.
The waiter brings the miso soup I ordered. Mandy gets nothing, so apparently she didn’t order soup. At least I know that now.
