At the Brink (38 page)

“Here’s the rest.” She handed me the packages over the screen.

The black fishnet stockings slid softly over my legs. The garters fit perfectly around my thighs. The black lace thong prickled against my skin and the pert little black bow in the front tickled my underbelly. The tall, braided leather stilettos were as uncomfortable as they looked. Worst of all, the embroidered corset itched like crazy. It was conspicuously missing two swaths of fabric, cupping my breasts with a plaited underwire but leaving them completely exposed.

“Are you ready?” Eva asked.

Was I? I wondered, not for the first time today.

I had spied on Rachella Willis. I’d trailed her like a common stalker. I’d “borrowed” her card, not to mention her identity. I’d stolen into this place. I could almost hear the charges as the judge sent me to the slammer.

It took all the courage I had to step out from behind that screen and even so, I shielded my nipples with my hands.

“Turn around.” Eva seized the laces and tightened the corset until I could barely breathe.

I felt like plastic toy squeezed into a giant’s fist. My waist shrunk at least three sizes. My breasts seemed to have grown in proportion. Dear God. Was I going to be able to go through with this?

I broke out into a sweat. “Restroom?”

Eva gestured toward the door. “Better take care of all that now.”

I clutched my purse under my arm and went into the bathroom. I leaned against the door and forced myself to breathe. What the hell was I doing here?

He rescued you once.

I was making a whole lot of assumptions and any one of them could be wrong.

Now you get to rescue him.

What if he didn’t want to be rescued?

My stomach clenched. Oh, God. Not now. I was not going to have a panic attack. I forced myself to draw even breaths. Okay, all right, I could do this.

But maybe I needed a little help, combined with a little provocation, insurance and assurance. I rummaged through my bag and made my own preparations, which were surely not specified on Eva’s list.

When I was done, I looked at my image on the mirror. “Who the hell are you?” I said to the bare-breasted floozy staring back at me.

Eva knocked on the door. “Time to go,” she said in a singing voice.

I forced myself out of the bathroom.

“We’re running late.” Eva broke open a little package and extracted a pair of black tassels.

“Earrings?” I said.

“No.” In one swift motion, she grabbed my nipple and clamped the tassel on it.

I flinched. “Ow.”

“The sting will pass.” She tackled the other nipple. “After that, you’ll appreciate the stimulation.”

Oh. My. God.

“And now these.” She handed me a package containing twin sets of black leather cuffs with attached rings.

Holy shit.

Eva’s eyes narrowed. “Haven’t you worn these before?”

“Sure,” I lied, fumbling with the wicked-looking cuffs.

“Here.” Eva took the cuffs from me and fitted them around my wrists. “We want them snug so they can do the job.”

“Of course.”

“Cross your wrists behind your back.” With a practiced motion, she hooked together the rings, restraining my hands. “Perfect.”

I was hard pressed not to run out of that room screeching like a madwoman.

Eva placed a sequined mask over my eyes and nose. The narrow eye openings restricted my side views, but I could see well enough when I looked straight ahead.

“And last but not least...”

She placed the dense plastic ball of a gag in my mouth then adjusted the straps on the back of my head.

“Good?” she said.

My throat closed down. My breath refused to flow. Was I really going to throw away all my hard earned gains because I was at the verge of a panic attack?

No way, Boswell.

I forced myself to breathe through my nose. I wasn’t giving up, even if I was afraid. I swallowed the bubble of terror rising in my throat.

But how on earth was I going to talk to Josh with a gag in my mouth?

I had to figure out a way and fast, because Eva opened a back door and gestured for me to follow. Teetering on incredibly tall high heels, I trailed behind her. The time to meet Josh had come, and cuffs, tassels and gag, this was my only chance.

* * *

Eva parted the curtains and motioned me through. The room I entered was dark in places and carefully illuminated in other spots, but it was nothing like the dungeon I’d expected. The place was posh and swanky, private and superbly sound proofed. As the door closed behind me, I feared the world outside had been shut out of existence.

A magnificent crystal chandelier dominated the room, casting a soft light that shimmered off the mirrored ceiling, floors and walls surrounding me. A round, tufted ottoman covered in gray silk stood immediately below the chandelier, reflecting the silver illumination.

The corners of the room weren’t lit, but I spotted a massive bed standing at an angle, framed by a multi-tiered headboard reaching all the way to the ceiling. The ornate, silver-gilded headboard was carved into intricately detailed panels. Yikes. Each panel explicitly illustrated a different sexual position.

I looked around for Josh, but I didn’t see him. My eyes tried to penetrate the room’s darkest corners without success. A single beam of light illuminated the spot where Eva led me.

“Stand here,” she said, pushing up my chin with a finger. “Yes, look up, that’s it.”

The powerful beam blinded my eyes. The white light spilled over my body, sparing me no shame. Images of me reflected on every surface, on the walls around me, the ceiling above and even the floor beneath my feet. I blinked, trying to focus, but the contrast between light and dark dazzled my eyes. I stood there, shivering, prey to all my fears.

“It’s always hard to stand up to the light at first,” Eva whispered. “But you look good, I promise. You look fantastic.”

My instinct was to run, to escape this odd room and forget everything in it, including Josh Lane. It was what most sane women would do, what Gloria Renez would’ve done. Instead, I bit down on the gag and stood my ground, if only because in Josh speak, I was so close to achieving my goal.

A rustle revealed there was someone else in the room, maybe even somewhere in front of me, hiding just beyond the light. I needed to know that it was Josh. The moment stretched in total silence. Maybe no one was there after all. Perhaps Josh had changed his mind. Perhaps he’d gone home, or better yet, he was out, looking for me.

It was Eva’s voice that broke the silence. “Your trainee is here,” she announced. “She’s ready when you are.”

Someone came to with a quiet gasp, stirring in the dim corner. I heard the swish of a body stretching against leather. I spotted the dark outline of a shaggy head of hair in the mirror. A pair of cargo boots caught a glint of the room’s tenuous light, revealing also a pair of black jeans and a similarly colored leather jacket. The sight lasted but a second. Then the figure shifted in the club chair and sank into total darkness.

“Hang on,” someone mumbled, a hoarse, sleepy voice I thought I recognized. The sound of a cap unscrewing from a bottle echoed from the corner. A glass clinked as someone poured, and then a quiet gulp.

Whoever he was, the person sitting in that corner wasn’t Josh. It couldn’t be. Josh didn’t drink. It was because of his injuries, his father had said, because his kidney and liver had been damaged in the explosion. Had Eva made a mistake? Had she brought me to the wrong room?

On the other hand, Baez had said that Josh wasn’t the person I knew anymore. If Josh was drinking, if he’d changed, if he didn’t recognize me or worse, if he didn’t care, I was in deep trouble because I’d would have no sway over the stranger beyond the light.

Eva’s voice interrupted my fear fest. “Time for me to leave.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” the voice came again, gruff and commanding as I remembered, but detached in a way that made me cringe. “Why don’t you stay for a bit?”

Stay?
The breath went out of my lungs in a whoosh. What did he mean, stay?

“As you wish.” Eva smiled. “What would you like me to do?”

“She said on the phone that she likes the bar,” he said.

“Right away.” Eva led me to the room’s opposite corner.

Oh, my God! Eva was staying and there was little I could do about it. But even if I’d had the chance, I wouldn’t have protested. I couldn’t risk Eva finding out I was an impostor and kicking me out before I had a chance to talk to Josh.

A new beam of light illuminated a strange contraption, a horizontal bar set across two tall poles and bolted to the floor. Eva unhooked my hands from behind my back and, lifting them above my head, notched the cuffs’ rings to the bar with a sound
click
. I stood on the balls of my feet, fastened to the crossbar, facing the mirrored wall.

I drew in a calming breath. Think of Josh. Think of yourself. So this was going to take a little bit more effort than I had first anticipated, a little more flexing on my part.

Okay. Alright. I thought of my mother’s favorite slogan:
You’ve come a long way, baby.

“So what do you think?” Eva asked.

“You did well,” the man in the shadows said. “She looks a lot like L—like she should.”

My heart revved up. I was sure he’d been about to say my name. I just knew he was thinking about me. He had to be. The only reason why he had called Rachella was because she looked like me. It was both disturbing and encouraging at the same time.

“What will be your pleasure?” Eva said.

“How about a warm-up session,” he said without a hint of emotion. “I could use the visuals.”

“What do you think, honey?” Eva said. “Are you up for it?”

Rachella’s tastes were likely to be very different from mine. I had to keep on playing the part. I nodded.

“Good girl.” Eva sauntered over the dresser and out of my field of vision. “You’re eager to please. I like that.”

My best case scenario was that Josh would recognize me within the next few moments. Surely, he would. I mean, Rachella and I had some similarities, but he had to know it was me. Right?

He’s exhausted, wiped out, completely and absolutely fatigued.
Baez’s words returned to haunt me.
Don’t expect much from him. He’s in no condition to face you.

What would happen if he didn’t recognize me?

Fear iced my bones all the way down to my toes.

Eva’s touch took me by surprise.

“Nice ass.” She stroked my private cheeks. “But I can make it even more striking.”

Whack.
I flinched with the sting. It caught me completely unprepared. I hadn’t seen the short black crop in Eva’s hands. It didn’t hurt, not really, and yet it had me reeling all the same.

“Your skin blushes easily.” She massaged off the sting. “You’ll be so easy to rouge.”

She matched the first stroke with another whack. This time, I was expecting it. But if I’d braced for one strike, I was in for another surprise. She kept going, switching me thoroughly, until I leaned away from her, gasping for breath.

“Have some pride.” Eva’s crop struck again. “Show off your ass. Show me how brave you are.”

Brave, yes, Josh liked brave. I planted my feet apart and offered up my ass. My whole body squeezed when she struck again. I went mad with keen sensations. It was strange. Something in me rebelled against the crop, but a primal part of me reveled in the whipping itself.

“Stand up straight.” Eva landed a sharp rap. “Arch your spine, that’s better. Widen your stance. Spread out those legs, girl.”

It was hard to balance on the high heels. I had to trust some of my weight to the bar above my head. It held, thank God, although the position added strain to my shoulders and flex to my arms.

“You like that, don’t you?” Eva worked the crop up my thighs, her nipples sharp against her white dress. Her cheeks flushed with excitement and her breath came in short bursts. The scent of arousal wafted from her, as enthralling as the touch of the crop.

The sting felt more acute on the sensitive flesh between my legs. I flinched and balked a little. My teeth bit down on the gag. My mouth tasted like rubber, dry and stark. But the lewd woman in the mirror was something else, obscene, yes, but also proud, strong and beautiful.

“Does she impress you as she should?” Eva asked.

“Not really,” the man in the shadows said.

My God, here I was, strung up, whipped, flushed and needy, and yet he sounded bored.

How could his flat voice be so familiar and yet so foreign? How could his words feel so cold and lifeless when every cell in my body reacted to his voice so powerfully?

Eva circled around then stood before me with her feet braced apart and her hands on her hips. “How about a little more passion?”

With a sudden slap, the crop’s leather tongue landed on the skimpy strip of lace covering my pubis. I reared with the smack. Eva struck again, and the rap reverberated through my body in tiny explosions. The heat in my sex kindled with every slap. My clit swelled. My sex moistened. I resisted the impulse to close my legs, giving in to an incomprehensible urge to stick out my hips.

“Oh, yeah.” Eva cooed. “She likes it. Should we add a little zing to the tassels?”

She struck the tassel dangling from one of my nipple clamps. I gasped. The tassel swung back and forth, making little circles in the air, pulling on the clamp that tormented my exquisitely sensitive flesh.

“Nice, yes?” Eva clutched my breasts and rouged the flesh around my areola with the crop.

I whimpered. If anyone had told me that I’d be sexually aroused by an exquisitely localized whipping, I would’ve drawn back in horror. If anyone had suggested that the strike of a lash somehow belonged to the realm of pleasure, I might have laughed. As it was, I’d blundered into discovery. I flared like a three-alarm fire beneath the crop’s relentless touch.

“It’s time we took a look,” Eva said. “Let’s see how far along you’ve come.”

She slid her hand beneath my thong and tested me with her fingers. Oh, God. My crotch was drenched. I trembled with desire. Eva’s eyes widened with appreciation.