like it hurt.”
“It also feels good.”
“Did it feel good when I hit you with the ruler?” I asked.
“Yes, because I was thinking I would be able to do anything I wanted to you afterwards.”
And just like that, my heart started beating faster. He was the golden boy when he was smiling, shining like the sun, but I preferred him this way, when he was intent and serious. Like we were sharing a secret together.
Victor held up his right hand, looking from it to me. “I used this hand on you last week. Just this hand, holding that rope around your wrist.” His fingers flexed.
My mouth opened, looking at his hand. I wanted to pull away from him. But that would be giving too much away. Then he would know how much he had scared me. I had thought about what happened all week, and now here I was sitting next to him, talking about it like it was a perfectly natural thing. It felt like everything I thought I knew was splitting apart.
“I made you feel something real intense,” he told me quietly. “Now I could make you feel so good you’d do anything for me. Without touching you sexually, of course. We are in a bar.”
“Here? You want to touch me here?”
“You don’t understand why people like kink, or why your sister is doing this. I can show you. And I can make up for the… extreme introduction I gave you last week.”
I couldn’t believe how tempted I was by him. “Look what happened last time I said yes.”
“We weren’t on common ground last time. Now I know where you’re coming from. And you can stop me at any time. Just tell me if you don’t like it.”
“Like a safeword?” I asked, remembering what Lola had told me.
“Yes.”
His hand dropped to the bench, straying closer to me. Like he wanted to touch me. He bit his lip as he looked down at my legs.
“Give me your foot,” he urged.
“My foot?” I was wearing stiletto pumps.
“Yes, what harm could that do?”
We were sitting at right angles so it was easy to lift my foot up. He caught me by the ankle and carefully removed my shoe. I could just see my red-tipped toes peeking from under the table cloth.
His touch sent a shiver through me, just in the way he held me. So firm and confident, yet careful of me, like his hands were too big for my delicate ankle. The feeling reminded me of last time when he held me. And I knew that if he didn’t want to let me go, I wouldn’t be able to break free.
I looked around. The place had mostly emptied out from the event, and a new post-happy hour crop of people were arriving. There were people at the nearby banquets and sitting at the bar. It felt safe enough, yet secluded.
Slowly, taking his time, he began to massage my foot. Pressing in at my heel and stroking up the toes—it felt heavenly! For a girl who worked on her feet all day every day, there could be nothing better.
He knew what he was doing. What wonders he could accomplish if he had lotion!
He moved up to include my ankle and I relaxed even more. His touch was so strong and sure, almost to the point of pain. But it’s what I needed. I’d been strung tight as a wire for weeks over Lola.
Stop thinking about Lola, I ordered myself.
“Stop thinking,” Victor said quietly.
Startled, I looked at him. He was making his way up my calf, and was giving my work-hardened muscles a good deep massage.
“You could tell that just from touching me?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, so that was reply enough.
As he kept stroking me, I relaxed back again, focusing on how his hands felt as he mixed the deep massage with delicate stroking, running his fingers up to the inside of my knee.
He went slowly, and when he got to the hem of my skirt half way up my thigh, I was feeling like I didn’t want to stop him. My entire leg was thrumming along with a few other things. Just from him touching my leg!
But he showed he could be a gentleman, and he stopped at my skirt.
Gently, he picked up my hand. He leaned over
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley