Free Eleven by Karen Rodgers Page B

which I assumed belonged to him. I tousled my hair and softly
dried it into loose, flowing curls. I accented my eyes with smoky
shadow, lining the rims with Kohl. I highlighted the apples of my
cheeks with softly shimmering blush and swiped Vixen lipstick
across my full bottom lip and the bow of my upper lip.
    This was not going to be a night of
questioning or holding back. I was going to make sure this would be
the night of a lifetime; the one he had fantasized about—a night he
would never forget.
    I returned the robe to the hook on the
door. I slipped the straps of the studded leather bra over my
shoulders and fastened the clasp in front. Then I stepped into the
matching thong and carefully eased it up over the curve of my
hips.
    Then I pulled my hair up and teased it
into a wild up-do, which exposed the length of my neck. There! I
exhaled and looked into the full length of my reflection in the
mirror. I was groomed to perfection. I felt confident—and very
powerful.
    The clock read 9:52. I had just enough
time to hustle my boots, choker, gloves—and myself into the theater
before I heard his keys turning the lock of the front
door.
    I heard the sound of his boots walking
through the entryway and veer off, down the hallway. Whew! I barely
escaped being caught.
    I had left a hand-written note for him
on the bed that he could not miss.
    ~ Good evening, Mister ~ Please relax ~
Take your time ~ Enjoy a shower~ Then meet me in the theater ~ Be
ready ~
    As I sat in alone the theater, I
slipped on the thigh-high leather boots. I fastened the choker and
pulled the long black satin gloves I had purchased to go with my
outfit up my arms, past my elbows. Then I covered myself in a long,
black trench coat that was belted at the waist.
    Damn it! I forgot the CD!
Shit!
    Steadying myself on the precarious
platform of the boots, I sneaked into the hallway; making every
attempt not to get caught. I tried to be as quiet as possible as I
sneaked into the bedroom to retrieve the CD out of my purse. Once I
located the CD, I glanced up to make sure I had not been
seen.
    There he was. I could see him showering
in the reflection in the long wall mirror. He was facing the other
way. I was frozen in fascination at the sight of his naked body. As
he shampooed his hair, the stream of bubbles trailed down his
tanned back to his firm buttocks. I was overcome at the sight of
his chiseled physique. It was impossible to tear my gaze away from
his body. The sound of my heartbeat was deafening. The pace of my
breath was becoming short and quick.
    He turned around to rinse. I saw the
shampoo and water trail down his chest. My eyes followed it down
his body—down, down, down. I leaned forward a bit, praying he would
not open his eyes and see me before the shampoo was completely
rinsed from his face.
    Every part of him—I mean every
delicious inch of his body was no less than magnificent.
    I stealthily made my escape back into
the theater. I turned on the dim lights briefly and located the CD
player and remote. I loaded the CD, turned the lights off, and
waited.
    In my gloved hands, I held a long silk
scarf. This was my time to take control. I would hold a power over
him unlike any other woman he had ever known. I had taken the black
leather outfit as a suggestion. It had indicated what he desired
from me. Our telephone conversations had confirmed my suspicions.
He was a dangerous man that desired an equally dangerous
woman.
    This is when the benefit of all my past
experiences flourished into my advantage. I was comfortable in my
own skin. The once lithe body of my youth had blossomed into a
toned, voluptuous woman. All inhibitions had been shed. I was able
to discern what made him tick.
    Unlike the previous women he had known,
I did not come from wealth or privilege. But I embodied the
physicality of his desire. I fit the mold he had designed for his
perfect match. That night, I would become the woman he had
fantasized about. I knew once the image of me