AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"What did you come here looking for?"
I couldn't say Cole St. Martin. If I did, I'd blow my chances with him before I ever found him. I couldn't say to find someone to play with.
I was pretty sure my new guide would offer, and I didn't know what I wanted.
I didn't know if I wanted anything. Yet.
"Did you come to play?" I'd taken too long to answer.
"I don't know what I came here for." Sometimes the truth is the easiest way out. "I’m..." I paused and considered all the things I could say. Out of place A cop but not right now. Looking for someone (but I can't tell you who). Strung out.
"Scared."
The woman with her hands on my shoulders purred. "You're honest. I like that. Everybody is scared when they first come somewhere like this."
"How do you know it's my – "
"Please." Her voice was still velvety, even when amused. "Are you a top or a bottom?"
Lady, I don't even know what I'm doing here. I don't know why I haven't ripped you in half for touching me."I don't know."
"Sure you do," she said, and began to steer me toward the cross.
Everything in me, every self defense mode, every alarm system, began clamoring to be heard over the ringing in my ears which had grown really very loud.
"I think you get enough leading in the outside world," the voice said.
I could tell from where her voice sounded she was taller than my five-six, but not much. No real trace of an accent, just western U.S. No ethnic tone either.
So one of how many million white girls in the area? She sounded young.
Sure, I could identify her in a line up.
But the cop part of me was falling away. The yearning was changing, the tension and anxiety and nausea easing as a different desire started to surface.
From somewhere so very far away I heard my phone ring. One of the hands left my shoulder and dived into my right back pocket, pulled out the offending piece of technology and handed it off to a man so large I was peripherally aware of him even without turning to look.
I had no idea why I was submitting to any of this. It went against every common sense rule I lived by and even more by the paranoia that was ingrained by my cop father, my own training, my black belt.
But I'd paid money to be here. The stripes across my ass had healed. The bruising Cole St. Martin had put there had faded.
The craving, the addiction, was starting to rage in me. I didn't know where Cole was or if he could actually help me.
I didn't feel like I had anything to lose. I'd come here on purpose. I knew what went on in a place like this.
I couldn't very well say Please don't hurt me.
What did I want? I wanted out of myself. At the most basic level. I wanted something Cole could give me if I could find him.
No. If I could find him and if I could let him. If I could let go and allow him to do what I knew this time he would do. Because this time I wouldn't be sold by some bad cop This time I'd be there on my own, saying Help me.
He would.
But there's always a price.
So did I want to know what I could take? Or did I just want to take it. Be broken down and emptied out and allowed to fill myself back up?
"Move to the cross," the voice behind me said. "Why are you trying to turn? What do you want to see?"
