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Challenge accepted.
“Mr. Carbone, it’s a pleasure.”
“Gabriel.” I reach out with the hand not holding Haven’s and shake the hand of the security guard who opened the museum at my request since it is after-hours.
“I’m the only one here tonight.”
“My request?”
“Done.”
I give Haven’s hand a tug and walk us through the back hall, making our way to the front. Room by room, her head swivels as we pass, but with the lights still off, she can’t see much.
“You really did take me to a museum,” she states softly in amazement.
I stop and look over my shoulder at her. “Is that not what you asked for?”
“I did but I didn’t think you would. You like the arts?”
“You can say that.” I half smile, half smirk.
Just as she says, “Thank you for bringing me.”
The lights come on and lower down to barely a dim. The flash of brightness was just enough for her to see her surroundings. Her intake of breath has my insides amused. “What?” Her head swivels. “You said you were taking me to a museum.”
“I did.”
“This isnota museum.”
“It is. You did not specify what kind of museum you wanted to visit so I brought you to the one I wouldn’t be bored at.”
“This is a sex store.” She glances around at all the eventful sightings.
“It is not. It is history. It is the sexual culture of years passed. The Museum of Sex is education on the years of everchanging human sexuality.”
She turns back, placing herself directly in front of me and admires the image in front of us. A woman in bondage laid out so elegantly has her attention. I stay silent, letting her soak it all in.
“That looks like it hurts,” she mutters after a few quiet moments of being absorbed by the image.
“If not done correctly, it would.”
“You’ve”—she nods her head towards the figure—"done that to someone?”
I grin, leaving her question unanswered and ask my own. “Have you?”
“I would never.” Her breathy answer makes her amble chest rise and fall.
“Why is that?” I question, turning her back around to face the provocative picture. I wait a moment, letting her soak it in before leaning down and getting a hair’s breadth away from her pierced, diamond studded lobe. While she’s wrapped up, thoroughly intrigued by the beautiful vision before her, I whisper, “Look at her. Look at the beauty of her body. She is captured in the wrath of her partner, giving him full control.” I slide my hands over her full hips, slipping my thumbs inside her now reconfigured dress and caress her exposed skin as I step up and brush my body against hers.
“There’s giving control and then there is relinquishing it altogether. She is vulnerable. Exposed. At his mercy.” Her breathing become heavier with each stroke of my thumbs.
“Exactly.”
She snaps out of her enamored spell and takes two steps away, placing herself in front of the next picture.
“It’s an aphrodisiac. Isn’t it? You can’t stop admiring, can you? Have you pictured what you would look like all trussed up?”
“I would not be as beautiful as she.”
