Double Dare Page 20

  She was full to capacity, strung out, her spine beading with sweat, an animal speared and made boneless for his pleasure. He ground into her, slow and deep, his teeth gritted, close to spilling. In the dim light she could see the muscles in his neck standing out, his eyes barely open as he watched her. She growled and urged him on, wanting it all, her arms flung back over her head, her hair tangled across the bed. She felt dirty and depraved, yet so true and honest—giving it all, taking it all and loving every moment.

  His cock went rigid. He shouted her name. He jerked as he came, sending tremors up her spine. Gasping, he eased her down the bed, one hand moving to her clit, stroking her quickly to a rapid orgasm.

  Her whole body was suffused with heat and sparkling fireworks that flew from her pelvis. Each time she felt it would drift and ease. She was dragged in its wake to the next plateau, in a blissful cycle of tiny dynamite explosions. Zac moved one finger lightly against her clit, drawing a further echo of glory from her body. She began to tremble in the aftermath.

  He moved, went to the bathroom. She reached up for him when he returned and as she did, a sob left her body without her being aware that it was coming. She felt him kiss her face, moving over its surface with his warm firm lips.

  "Hush," he murmured and she crawled against him. She could just see the outline of his face in the darkness, the flash of reflected light on his eyes when he moved. He switched a small light by the bedside on and she squinted, as she grew accustomed to its brightness.

  "You're so beautiful, every bit of you," he whispered.

  "So are you." She untied his hair, her fingers wrapped in the strong strands

  "You do know that I'm falling in love with you, don't you, Abby?"

  She stared at him, her heart racing with sheer joy. He loved her too. "What did you say?"

  He moved to her ear. "I love you Abigail Douglas."

  She smiled. "I still can't hear you."

  He gave an exasperated sigh and moved to look at her face. He looked pained, desperate. "I love you, Abby." He looked at her smile and gave a quiet laugh, his expression relaxing. "You did hear me."

  She nodded and reached for him. She pulled his head close and whispered his words to him then added many of her own, telling him.—finally telling him how much he'd come to mean to her.

  They drifted towards sleep while still kissing one another gently, a new sense of awareness between them. "I don't want to be parted from you, Zac," she said as sleep took her, but she didn't hear a reply.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Stepping out of the shower, Abby grabbed one of the big fluffy towels from the rail and wrapped herself in it. She wiped the steam that had gathered on the mirror and combed her fingers through her hair. From the bedroom she could hear the sound of Zac's voice. The door was slightly ajar and she smiled. He was on the phone.

  She walked over to the chair near the door where she'd left her wash bag, and unzipped it. Rooting around inside for her moisturizer, she paused when part of his conversation reached her.

  "I understand your position, really I do. That's why I got back to you as soon as I could." He sounded concerned. "On Monday this situation will be resolved, either way. I'm sorry, but I really need you to keep quiet about what's going on here until then."

  Abby straightened up, clutching the moisturizer in her hand. Discomfort nettled its way up her spine. Keep quiet about what's going on here? Why did that make her feel so uncomfortable? The idea of keeping anything quiet, she supposed. There was a lot about Zac she didn't know. I've fallen in love with a virtual stranger. She took another step closer to the door, craning her neck to hear.

  His voice had dropped but he was talking faster.

  "Don't you think I know that? It's a bloody mess. I'm sorry that I got you involved, really I am." There was a pause. She sensed that he'd stood up. "No, calm down. Okay, so you went in there for dubious reasons, but you haven't done anything that dodgy, and certainly not illegal. You're letting your feelings get the better of you. Just take it easy and we'll talk about it on Monday." Again there was silence.

  Abby clutched at her towel where it was folded over across her chest and swallowed.

  "Yes, you have to do what you think is best for you, I respect that, but if it's at all possible for you to leave it until then, I'd appreciate that."

  She heard the sound of him moving, putting the phone down. Gathering herself she darted back towards the mirror. She could see the startled expression on her own face. Her heart was racing, instinct making her wary. There was a knock at the bathroom door.

  "Come in."

  He walked in and stood behind her.

  She busied herself applying moisturizer, her mind turning over rapidly. Keep quiet until Monday?

  He looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. There were clearly things about him that she was unaware of, potentially unpleasant things. Could she face that, could she face finding out that there was something about him she maybe didn't want to know, but should?

  "Were you on the phone?" She tried to ask the question as nonchalantly as possible.

  "Yes, it was a work problem, something that wouldn't wait."

  She nodded. What could she say? She'd overheard his conversation and noticed it sounded suspicious?

  He ran his hands into her hair, lifting it and kissing the back of her neck.

  An eerie combination of arousal and discomfort ran through her. "Anything I could help you with?"

  "Abby." He turned her towards him, his hands on her shoulders. "You help me just by being with me."

  "I love you, Zac. Don't you think you should share your concerns with me?"

  He gave a sad smile. "I will. Trust me. I don't want business to spoil our weekend, that's all."

  She tried to shelve it, but as she dressed the thoughts raged on. He did seem to have a lot of money for an up and coming entrepreneur. He could be a Columbian drug baron for all she knew. She shook her head, chastising herself for letting her worries run her imagination ragged. She was deeply in love with him. Last night she couldn't have been happier, and yet she was so easily creeped out. It had been a hell of a week, crazy. Tom Robertson and his dodgy interest in her had made her overly suspicious. But she didn't know Zac from Adam, she had to admit that. She looked at him as he poured out coffee and drank it, his body taut and infinitely masculine as he moved.

  Who are you? A desperation to know had taken root in her. Could she do as Marcy had suggested, and let it unfold in due course? Yes, I can keep my head. That's what I'm good at.

  Her instincts told her that he had a dangerous, wildcard side to him—and that was undeniably what had attracted her—but she also felt that he wasn't fundamentally bad. However, a level of self protection moved into place. She'd lost her heart, but she hadn't lost all her faculties. Then he stepped toward her, so darkly handsome and desirable, smiling at her, reaching out for her, and suddenly she wasn't so sure.

  * * * *

  Three sculpted marble female torsos stood in the window of the shop, exceedingly beautiful and each wearing a corset. One was a traditional Victorian garment, the second a velvet and lace affair, the third a shiny synthetic fabric, almost futuristic in design. It was like looking at a history of corsetry. Abby was fascinated.

  "Looks interesting?" Zac squeezed her against him.

  She nodded.

  He opened the door and ushered her inside.

  Abby felt as if she'd been swept into a decadent boudoir, a place that suggested fantasies could be made real. Elegant baroque furnishings broke up the rails of sumptuous fabrics hanging around the walls. The space might just as well have been a gallery as a shop.

  A woman was working on an inner display. She set down the fabric in her hand when she heard the door chime, turning to greet them. She was slim and elegant, wearing a fitted jacket and skirt that was reminiscent of the 1940's. Cinched in at the waist, it was inset with panels that were laced and corseted into the outline of her body. The
dove gray fabric was soft, the laces around her midriff a contrast in the finest leather cord. Her narrow heels were at least five inches high.

  "Hello," Zac said, when she smiled their way. "Bonjour."

  "Bonjour. English, yes?"

  Zac nodded.

  The woman put out her hand. "I am Gabrielle, the proprietor. Welcome." She shook both their hands in turn, her demeanor pleasant and friendly. "Is there something in particular you are looking for, or would you like to browse?"

  Zac answered her. "We're looking for a special outfit for Abby, something eye-catching."

  Gabrielle smiled, her gaze quickly scanning Abby as if she was measuring her up for an outfit already. "You have the look of a fiery mistress."

  "How astute," Zac commented.

  Abby flashed him a warning glance, but couldn't help smiling.

  Gabrielle gestured with a finely manicured hand. "If I might make some suggestions?"

  Abby nodded. "Yes, thank you."

  Gabrielle directed Zac to a velvet-covered chair nearby and drew Abby to the rails of clothing. It was as if they had been taken into the woman's domain, a citadel of sexually-charged sophistication. She selected an outfit and hung it from a bar suspended by chains in the center of the room. It looked like something an acrobat would use in circus, but suited the purpose perfectly. Abby was tickled.

  The item she had selected was a black velvet dress, corseted and edged with red lace, hinting at the bordello look.

  "I never wear red," Abby murmured, her hand automatically going to her hair.

  "Ah, but you should, you are strong enough to match up to your hair." Gabrielle spoke with surety.

  "She's right," Zac commented. "I'd love to see you in red."

  His smile was so intimate and he looked so gorgeous, draped as he was in the chair. Abby nodded. "Maybe."

  "I think this might be the one," Gabrielle said as she moved down the rail. Pulling out a second garment, she hung it up alongside the first. It was a corset in black, with red flames leaping up from the bust line.

  "Oh, wow." Abby was completely transfixed.

  "It's made of the softest leather, so will fit like a glove." Gabrielle ran her hand down one side of the corset, then outlined the detailing with one finger. "The flames are hand dyed in the process of building the garment, and reinforced so that they rise up, just above the bust line."

  There was a little bit of red, where the flames leapt out of the black body, and it magnetized her gaze. "It's gorgeous."

  Gabrielle smiled and turned the garment on the rail showing the length of lacing on the back. "Would you like to try it on? A fishtail skirt in a more malleable fabric would go well and allow you a certain amount of...accessibility." She reached for another hanger, bringing a long supple skirt out to hang alongside the flamed corset. I think it would be a good outfit for you."

  Abby glanced at Zac.

  "I'd love to see you wearing that."

  It was dramatic, so sexy. And the confirmation she saw in his eyes made her squirm with longing. "In that case, I'll try it on."

  Gabrielle collected the two garments and led Abby past the rails of clothes. Pulling back a heavy curtain made of midnight velvet, she ushered Abby inside the fitting room.

  Abby went to take the outfit from her.

  "Non, please. Allow me. I'm here to dress you."

  "Right, of course." Abby laughed. Gabrielle was so gentle in her guiding, she felt at ease despite the newness of the situation.

  The fitting room was spacious and all three walls were decked with mirrors straight from the baroque age, gilt framed and massive. A tall wooden figurine with outstretched arms provided the place for Gabrielle to put the clothing.

  The curtain was slightly open and she could still see Zac. He was glancing around the place then his gaze retuned to her. When their eyes met, her heart leapt. I can't help myself, he might be a big bad wolf, but I love him.

  Gabrielle helped her to undress, unobtrusively. She glanced in the mirror as she moved. "Your lover he likes to watch, yes?"

  "Apparently so, yes." Did she know that about him?

  "And you liked to be watched."

  She said it in such a sophisticated, matter-of-fact way that Abby was inspired to do likewise. "It arouses me, yes. I cannot deny it."

  "Ah, you are the perfect match for each other."

  Abby smiled. She hadn't thought about it that way, but it was true. Zac caught her glance, and smiled back. Her heart melted.

  Gabrielle bent down to move Abby's shoes and as she did she did she caught the curtain, pulling it open so that Zac had more of a view. "We will let him see," she said as she straightened up. "But he will think that I don't know."

  Gabrielle stepped in front of Abby, who was now naked but for her lace panties, and her eyes filled with mischief.

  Abby looked again, and saw a brooding prince in the chair, the man who called to her essential womanhood. He looked at her with possessive eyes. 'I want you' he mouthed.

  'I want you too,' she mouthed back. It was so true. She couldn't deny it, or him. Despite her doubts, he hadn't done anything to harm her. He'd brought her only good things and happiness. Now they were here, and this weekend was about them. Her heart was full of him and her core ached to be so too.

  Lifting a large powder puff from a nearby shelf, Gabrielle dipped it into a shell like box and proceeded to dust Abby's breasts, waist and hips with a fine coating of talc. "You must do this before you dress in this outfit. It will make you comfortable and it will be easier to take the outfit off at the end of the evening."

  The light touch of the puff maddened Abby's naked skin. Her breasts tingled, her nipples crinkling into peaks, her skin racing.

  Zac shifted in his chair, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

  "The outfit, is it for a private event, or a party?"

  "It's for a private event."

  "A de Vere's fetish party, perhaps?"

  Zac had mentioned that name while they were relaxing on a riverboat cruise along the Seine, earlier that afternoon. Abby nodded. "You are either very good at guessing, or you are psychic."

  "The event is held once a month, and it's tonight, it was easy to guess." Her laughter tinkled around them. "I go to the event myself."

  "You will be there tonight?"

  Gabrielle nodded as she helped Abby step into the skirt and swished it up and over her hips.

  Abby smiled, pleased that she would know someone else there.

  "It's a sexy time, and I get to see people enjoying my designs."

  "You designed these clothes yourself?"

  "Many of these outfits, yes. Some of them I have imported to suit the particular fetish of my clients."

  She unfolded the corset around Abby and shifted into place. "Bend and drop your breasts into the molded leather cups."

  Abby did so, her head turning to watch Zac in the mirror. He was riveted.

  "Oh yes, a beautiful fit." Gabrielle stroked her hand over the supple material enclosing Abby's waistline, making eye contact with her in the mirror. "This is one I designed, and it is lovely to see it on so suitable a client."

  "It's an amazing design."

  Gabrielle was pleased with her remark, a hint of color rising on her cheeks. "It is perfect for you. Do you have heels?"

  Abby nodded.

  "Good, and you must wear your hair up on the crown, spilling down."

  "I should be thinner," Abby said, looking at her breasts squeezing up between the flame tips with a sense of misgiving.

  Gabrielle's slim eyebrows lifted in alarm. "Oh no, a corset looks best on a woman who is shapely." She began to tug in the laces, her arms flying, her concentration fully on the job.

  Abby's breath caught in her throat as the leather tightened into a vice-like grip. She breathed high and shallow, then got used to the strange tightness and breathed easier.

  "You are just right," she added, as she tied the laces. "As the leather warms it will fit closer s
till, like a second skin. The corseting will apply pressure to your womb and to your breasts. It is very arousing, yes?"

  "Yes," Abby murmured as she wavered slightly, heady from the odd but stimulating sensations the article had on her.

  Gabrielle pulled the curtain fully aside and gestured for Abby to step out. As she did, she found that everything she needed to know was written on Zac's face. Awe, desire, love and pride.

  "It was made for you," he murmured, eyes shining.

  She nodded, noting the bulge in his jeans. She glanced at Gabrielle. "I've got one question."

  "Yes?"

  "How do I put it on, without you to assist me?"

  Gabrielle glanced at Zac with amusement. "Your lover will be there to help you. I'm sure he can manage a few laces."

  Zac smiled his wolf-smile. "We may never reach the party."

  Inside a heartbeat, Gabrielle responded. "That's why you must start early, and with plenty of champagne."

  * * * *

  Zac lifted Abby's jacket from her shoulders and handed it to a hovering doorman.

  "Amusez-vous bien," the man said as he gestured down the hallway and into the crowded area beyond.

  They emerged into a club zone, which was already humid despite the air conditioning. The atmosphere was charged. Energizing industrial dance music and beneath it the buzz of chattering voices filled the room. A background lightshow spangled the place in alternating pools of color. The dance floor was thronging with scantily clad partygoers. A mezzanine bar swept up on one side, overhanging the floor at one end, like something from a sci-fi movie.

  "Oh look," said Abby, laughing, "it's a yellow brick road."

  Zac followed her nod and saw the path paved with yellow bricks that led up to the mezzanine level. "Nice touch," he agreed. He tucked his arm around her waist, drawing her up for a kiss. The leather cinched her so perfectly, he wanted to keep his hands on her, stroke her outline through the soft yet rigid containment. "Are you ready to party?"