Attraction (19 page)

He pulled her head back even more until the vulnerable curve of her neck was exposed to
him. Heron bent his head, closed his teeth over her throat and suckled deeply. Desire and heat
exploded inside Riley, and she writhed in his arms, trying to gasp for breath as she fought to
prevent herself from being smothered by intensely erotic pleasure, trying to free her neck from
his savage mouth. But she was held completely helpless by Heron, her neck bent back so that it
threatened to snap under the pressure, his arm holding her so tightly to him that her breathing
was being cut off. She opened her mouth to sob, and when she did, Riley was completely
unaware that she was screaming, because of the noise of the music and people all around them
masked the sound. Heron lifted his head but to only cover her mouth with his. He kissed her long
and hard, twisting his tongue around hers, tasting her, drinking from her.
Then, just as quickly as he had pulled her to him, Heron released Riley and stepped back
from her. She stumbled back, bumping up against people. She reached out and gripped the edge
of the bar and leaned against it, panting, her body shuddering. With wild eyes, she watched
Heron pick up his leather jacket and walk away with Jack.
Riley watched the two men exit from the bar, and every fiber of her being wanted to run
after Heron. Once she had caught up with him, she knew that she would jump in his arms, wrap
her legs around his waist, not at all feeling ashamed that she was throwing herself at him, not
cautioning herself that he might not want to take her with him.
Blindly, Riley ran out of the lounge, up the stairs to her private room, and leaned against
door when she shut it. In the silence of the room, she heard her heavy breathing and realized she
was still panting. She took in big gulps of air to try and calm herself, trying to control the
shaking of her body.
Never had that ever happened to her. Never ever had she let a man treat her in such a
deliberately, blatantly sexual manner, letting him openly fondle her in front of so many people.
Never had she let a man treat her as a sexual object and with so little respect. But she had let
Heron Wait do just that.
Riley pushed herself away from the door and walked to the mirror. In the mirror, she saw
her flaming cheeks. She lifted her hands to cover them and felt them burn in her palms. Her eyes
were still feverish, her lips bruised and reddened and parted as if they were waiting for another
kiss. Then she saw a reddish mark beginning to form on her neck, where Heron had closed his
teeth on her and had suckled her. He had put his brand her.
But this was not made by a clumsy teenage boy fumbling his first way around a girl. The
bruise was made by a man who had been deliberately marking a woman. He had drawn her to
him, then had seduced her, and when she had been filled with erotic need, he had subdued her
and sank his teeth into her. Riley shuddered at the implication of that. He had marked her out of
vengeance, punishing her for what he felt was her wrongdoing of him, and warning her that if
she was to ever tangle with him, he had every intention of winning.
Heron and Jack sat in the black limousine as Heron’s chauffeur sped the long car down
Highway 101. The two men hadn’t spoken since they left the bar. Every once in awhile, Jack
would turn to study his friend who mostly stared out the window with dark eyes that were distant
and unseeing. But Jack could tell that Heron was seething inside about something by the white
knuckles of his hands that were clenched at his sides. As to why his friend should be in a rage
about was a complete mystery to Jack.
Jack stretched his legs out in front of him. “Well, that was an interesting evening,”
Heron did not stir but continued to stare out the window.
“So, that was the sister of your former fiancée?”
There was, again, no response.
“Tell me, Heron, did you kiss your fiancée the way you kissed her sister tonight?”
Heron did not stir.
“Did you ever kiss a woman the way you kissed her tonight?”
The silence from Heron continued. Bored, and tired of his friend’s brooding silence, Jack
opened up a lid on the side of the car, which revealed a small bar, and made himself a drink.
“So, Heron, what would have happened had you married her sister? Do you think that
torrid embrace would have still been an eventuality?”
Heron did turn his head and gave Jack a very hard, a very chilling look.
Jack shrugged and sipped at the martini that he had made. “Just speculating, old boy. Just
speculating.”
Several hours later Riley closed the bar and went home. Exhausted both physically and
mentally, she fell asleep the instant her head touched her pillow. She dreamt that she was a
villager whose village had just been conquered and with many others, she was taken prisoner:

She was put on a long caravan where their conquerors were to take
them to a place of exile. Suddenly, she found herself in a small cell alone
being carted by a horse, and Heron was the soldier assigned to escort her.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked him, peering up at him
through the bars of her jail.
Heron looked down at her from the back of his horse, his face set hard
and stern. “You will see,” he only said tersely.
“Is it far from here?”
“I believe it is just over the mountains west of here.”
Then it should be no more than a few hours, she thought to herself.
But several hours later, they had not arrived at their destination. In
her cell, she became tired and began to sleep. In the dream, she woke up, and
found that she no longer was in a cell but in a cart pulled by a horse with her
hands tied together at a post, the soldier riding on his horse alongside the
cart.
She tried to ask him again when they would reach the place and where
it was. He did not answer but continued to ride. She put her hands in front of
her eyes to block out the westward sun so that she could peer up at him. He
did not seem to know that she was there, but kept his eyes in front of him.
The next thing she knew in the dream, she was lying on her back,
naked beneath a black sky that was studded with stars, and the soldier’s rough
hands were holding her legs apart. He was rutting deeply inside her, she felt
as if she were nothing but warm thick liquid, the pleasure spiraling tighter in
her loins. She reached out her hands and clasped his broad shoulders and
pulled him to her, her mouth seeking to taste him, to bite him, so willingly
moaning and writhing for him.
Then they were riding again, climbing up the mountains that never
seem to end. This time she was on horseback riding alongside the soldier, her
wrists tied in front of her. Again, on the trip, he remained silent, and did not
look at her.
The next scene was where they were naked on the ground, his hands
fondling the flesh between her thighs, making her arch her body and groan
with pleasure. Then he was fucking her hard and slow, and the pleasure was
so intense that she was sobbing, suddenly frightened of it.
“You will never go back to where you came from,” he whispered down
to her, his eyes eerily dark and fathomless.
“Whaa…?” She shook her head, trying to clear it of the searing haze
that was swirling inside so that she could hear his words.
She felt the hot tightness inside her dissolve as her body shook and
everything went blank.
They were traveling again through the mountains that never seemed to
end but always seemed to beckon them further on. This time, she was
completely unbound, and she was seated on his horse in front of him, his one
arm encircling her waist to anchor her on the seat. The other horse was tied
to their theirs with a rope, lazily following them, weighed down with their
belongings. He no longer wore a soldier’s uniform but was simply dressed as
a farmer like she.
As they rode on, she felt a certain contentment, a peace that she never
knew could be had. She no longer asked him everyday where they were going,
or how long it would be until they arrived. It no longer mattered. It didn’t
matter how long the journey would be, or if it would ever end.

The next evening, Riley was half afraid and half anticipating that the two men would
come back to the bar. Dreading seeing Heron again and yet very excited, she dressed in a light
cashmere wool sweater dress that was the color of pale buttercup. It was long sleeved and several
inches above her knees. It had a demure neckline and seemed like a respectable dress until she
turned and revealed her back. It was completely backless that dipped below the small of her
back.

All evening, Riley stayed close to the main lounge, keeping her eye on the doorway,
often scanning the room for the sight of a very tall man with a striking face, cool, distant eyes,
and thick black hair. After midnight, when it became clear that Heron would not be showing, she
was shocked at the bitter disappointment that she felt.

But the next evening, which was a Sunday evening, one of the slowest nights of the bar,
she found herself again expecting him to enter the bar. And she waited for him, spending half the
time scolding herself for expecting something that was nearly impossible, But he did not show.

This time, Riley managed to shrug off her disappointment, deciding that it had been a one
time oddity, a fluke passion that had flared between them. Besides, she told herself, it would
probably not do for them to get involved in a torrid affair since they were related by marriage.

On the following Thursday evening, Riley was walking by the bar when Joe stopped her.
“They’re here, again,” Joe said.
“Who?”
“Those two men who were here last Friday.”
“Where?”
“Three chairs down.”
Riley easily spotted them, Heron and his friend, Jack, sipping their drinks. The crowd

was not the near crush that it had been last Friday, where people had been almost shoulder to
shoulder. There was still a good crowd but people didn’t have to push their way through to get
from one place to another. Riley was about to go up to the two men then stopped and looked
down at herself. Then she rushed back to her office and checked herself in the mirror, something
she had not done since her first date in high school. As she looked in the mirror, she considered
changing out of the black tailored jacket and into one of her corsets or a long slinky dress. The
jacket was a mock morning coat, cut at the waist in front with a small split, penguin tail at the
back that reached half over her buttocks so that her bare lower cheeks were revealed. In the front,
the coat was double breasted and fitted, buttoning with four buttons below her chest. The lapels
were left gaping, the construction of the upper part of the jacket was so that there was not ample
room for proper concealment of Riley’s large breasts. Not wearing any undergarment, her breasts
were barely contained between the two lapels that just were able to cover her nipples exposing an
abundant cleavage. When she moved a certain way, the lapels gaped open, revealing the whole
of her breast. For her bottom, Riley wore a type of a g-string panties that was cut very high at the
hips.

Satisfied with her appearance, Riley quickly freshened her lips with red lipstick and sent
back out to the bar, hoping no one would see the mixture of wild panic and excitement in her
eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she took her time making her way to the two men, trying to appear
casual and unconcerned, trying not to show overt interest.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Riley greeted with her usual warmth of a seasoned hostess.
“I’m glad to see you two in here again. It’s always a pleasure to see repeat customers.” She
flicked her eyes at Heron, who was gazing at her from beneath hooded eyes, his face impassive.
“Heron.”
He was very casual again, wearing faded jeans and blue and black pin striped dress shirt
beneath his leather jacket. He looked far removed from the high-powered lawyer who handled
the legal contracts of a major financial house.
He took his time looking over her appearance, his eyes lingering with unapologetic
leisure on her nearly exposed breasts. “Riley.”
Riley stared at him with pale gray-hazel eyes that were large and waiting. Although she
forced her body to stay still, she was full of tension.. Her mind was screaming, “When are you
going to touch me? Please, touch me. Please.” She knew the question was in her eyes and Heron
could see it. And she cursed him for remaining in his seat, not touching her, coolly detached,
content for the moment to only drink his scotch.
“Hey, hey, remember me,” Jack prompted.
Riley turned to him and her face relaxed in an easy smile. “Mr. Knowles, how could I
forget you.”
“Jack.”
“Jack.” Then she flicked her eyes to Heron. “Tell me, Jack, did you have to drag your
friend here, as well, tonight?”
Jack gave a knowing smile, looked mockingly at Heron. “Actually I didn’t. When I made
the suggestion that we come here tonight, Heron was surprisingly acquiescent.”
Riley raised an eyebrow at Heron. “Is that so? I would never have equated such words as
acquiescent to a man like Heron. In certain rooms upstairs, I would have thought that he would
have been the one to enforce acquiescence.”
“Everyone, it seems, has their price,” Jack drawled.
Riley frowned, not understanding for a moment. “Price?” Then her forehead cleared. She
tipped her head back, giving Heron a slow, knowing smile. “I see.” She turned back to Jack.
“Was there anything particular you needed, Jack?”
“I would like a private tour of that tool room, if you don’t mind.”
“Consider it done. I’ll take you there myself later. How about you, Heron, are you
interested in seeing paraphernalia that aids in acts of intimacy?”
“Not as a rule,” Heron said.
“Why don’t you come up anyway? Who knows, you might find something there that
intrigues you,” Riley suggested.
Heron stared at her for a moment. Then, suddenly, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled
her to him and covered her mouth with his and ruthlessly drawing her into a long, passionate
kiss. Riley moaned, and shuddered with both sensual relief and need, thrusting her hands through
his hair, pressing her body against his as tightly as she could, not caring that Jack, and the other
guests and employees, were watching them. All she cared was that she was in Heron’s arms and
he was holding her, kissing her. When he ended the kiss, he kept Riley close to him, his arms
holding her prisoner between his legs, while his hands freely roamed over her body, often
lowering over her bare buttocks to caress and fondle them. He kept his head near hers, letting his
lips trial over her face, kissing her features, sometimes taking small stinging bites of her jaw and
chin and down her neck.
“I dreamed about you that night,” Riley said, her voice throbbing with need that was
pressing on her nerves and loins. She thought with some despair that she was losing every
vestige of shame and dignity where Heron was concerned.
Riley pressed herself against Heron. He was so much taller and bigger than she was,
towering over her, even as he was sitting down on the stool. His large frame with its broad
shoulders blotted out everything else, so that it seemed to Riley there was only the two of them,
enveloped in a very small world of heat and passion.
Her small hands ran over him, grasping at him beneath his shirt, wishing he was naked.
She planted small kisses all over him, trailing her lips where she could touch his skin. A few
times, as he had done to her, she would takes small nips, reveling in the taste and smell of him.
She lifted her lips and pressed them against his throat and when she felt a pulse leap in her
mouth, she sank her teeth into his skin and started to suckle. Heron’s body gave a great shudder.
He instantly put a stop to what Riley was doing with her hungry mouth by pulling her head back
by her hair and covering her lips with his for another deep kiss. When the kiss ended, she buried
her face against his neck, while her small hands undid the buttons down his shirt front. She
parted the edges and began to rain kisses on his chest. Heron swept her hair to one side, exposing
her nape, bent his head, sank his teeth into her neck and suckled, doing to her what he had not
allowed her to do to him. Riley lifted her mouth away from his chest and gasped as erotic need
sharpened inside her. Heron held her in place even as she wriggled and shuddered so that he
could continue to sip at her.
Somewhere in the distant part of her mind, Riley could not believe that she letting this
happen to her. She was more than willing to let him have his liberties over her body in front of so
many people, not caring that she was abandoning her self-respect and good opinion from others,
and Heron’s opinion of her. Whatever passion and need he was arousing in her was
overwhelming and all consuming. It seemed to block out everything else in her mind, such
considerations as appearances, decorum, respect, propriety, control. Especially control. No other
man had ever led her to the point where she would lose a sense of herself, a sense of who she
believed she was.
When Heron released her neck, now bruised and throbbing, Riley lifted her glazed eyes
up at him, her lids heavy with passion. Her hands pulled at his jacket.
“Let’s go upstairs. Please,” she said, knowing she was begging.
He looked down at her, his eyes shuttered. Over her shoulder, he saw Jack was
preoccupied with a tall blond.
“No, not tonight,” he said quietly, belying the passionate embrace and kisses that he had
just shared with her.
Riley pulled back, her face a little stricken, a desperate look coming to her eyes. “Why,”
she demanded hoarsely.
“Now’s not the time.”
“When will it be time?”
“I’ll let you know.”
Her eyes studied him feverishly, trying to read his inscrutable face. She was ready to
have Heron. She had been ready for him the first time he took her in his arms. But there was a
guardedness in his eyes as he stared back at her that confirmed his words. Heron was not ready
for her. He wanted her, maybe as much as she wanted him. But he was not ready to take her.
Even though there was passion between them and their sexual need for each other was suffusing
inside their bodies, he was waiting for something else. And she saw that he wasn’t going to tell
her what that was, whether or not he knew what it was he was waiting for.
Heron tugged on her wrist and pulled her back to him. Riley automatically lifted her lips
to his as he lowered his face to hers. She was willing to wait, for now.
“Hey, Riley, how about showing us that room,” Jack said from behind her.
Both looked at him. The tall blond was nowhere to be seen.
Riley though for a moment, the sexual tension beginning to subside. Perhaps it was a
good idea to put some distance between she and Heron, if nothing was going to happen, let
things cool down between them. She even hoped that she might even get her bearing with Heron,
but she doubted it. She wanted to experience that desire that Heron had created in her, no matter
what it drove her to do.
She slowly stepped out of Heron’s arms, her eyes locked to his, as she said, “Yes, Jack,
that’s a good idea. I will show you that room, right now.” She turned and walked towards the
staircase, keeping her eye in front of her so that she did not weaken and look back to see if Heron
was coming, too.
When she reached the second floor, she walked down a long hall. She did not allow
herself to feel any satisfaction when she heard two male footsteps behind her. Along the hallway,
there were many doors and all of them were shut. It was obvious that a few of them were
occupied from the moans and muffled cries that were coming from behind the doors.
At the end of the hallway, she opened a small door to a compartment and pulled out a key
and inserted it into a lock on one of the doors. She led them to what was a very large room, lit in
low lights, with several glass cases. The cases contained the various sex toys, from whips,
vibrators, butt plugs, handcuffs, whips, feathers, etc., that people in the sex club could purchase.
There were all over the wall displays of equipment, as well as the different outfits that enabled
people to play out their fantasies, from leather bras, corsets, chaps, boots, gloves to such outfits
of well known story figures and famous people such as Little Bo Peep, Tinker Bell, Marilyn
Monroe, Darth Vader, Delilah. There were also hanging on the walls chains, collars with leashes,
whips, and leather straps to bound people up.
Jack gave a whistle. “Wow! A playroom for adults. I heard that you have some
equipment for torture. Was that just a rumor.”
Riley pointed to an open doorway that led to another room. Jack entered the room and
saw harnesses and chains with straps at the end to bound people up. There were on display a few
leather masks that only had holes for the person to breathe out of. There two contraptions where
the person could strapped spread eagle, face down or face up.
“Impressive,” Jack said. He gave Riley a sardonic smile. “Do you try out any of these,
yourself?”
Riley watched Heron walk slowly around the displays. She said to Jack, “Only one or
two of the very tame ones.”
“So, no whipping, no bondage, no role playing of being the helpless maid trapped by a
lecherous millionaire in his mansion or a school girl being disciplined by the headmaster?”
Riley smiled. “No. I’m afraid I like my sex the old fashioned way.” She saw Heron finger
a leather glove that had silver fringes. Or, she mused, I thought I did.
“Now, this is a curious case.” Jack bent to take a closer look at the contents in one of the
cases. “What are all these things for? Can sex be that varied?”
She looked at contents. “Haven’t you ever seen butt plugs before?”
“Sure I have.” Jack pulled out a simple model that was a few inches long, slender, and
with a small ring at the end. “I know this is a plug. But are all these others for the same purpose?
Such as this?” He pulled an item that had four small balls that were an inch in diameter on a
string, each an inch from the other.
“Yes, that is also a butt plug.”
“Now, this can’t be one.” Jack held up a six inch stick in neon orange that was close to
two inches in diameter. The tip of the stick was ball shaped that had tiny rubbery pins sticking
out of it. “Don’t tell me women are willing to stick this up their bum, now are they?”
“Yes, they are. As well as men.”
Jack gave a grimace and dropped the stick as if it had just scalded him. Riley laugh ed.
The blond woman who had been talking to Jack earlier downstairs appeared at the
doorway. She made a pout with her pretty lips and said in an heavy French accent, “Jacque,
baby, where did you go to? I went to talk to my friends for a second, I turn around, and pouf, you
were gone.”
“Ah, Evaline, my cherub.” Jack put his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “I’m
so sorry, my darling. I didn’t mean to abandon you, but my friend, here, was showing me her
fascinating room. And I have been getting very interesting ideas about how you and I can spend
time together. Come, my sugar plumb, come and see some of the equipment in this back room.
Tell me, Evaline, have you ever been tied up?”
Riley heard Evaline tell Jack that when she was seven years old, she and boy cousin
would tie one another up and play pirates.
“Well, that’s sort of the same thing, but what I have in mind will be much more fun,”
Jack said.
Riley saw Heron at the case that contained the butt plugs. By now the kiss and the
caresses that they had shared downstairs were memories, already distant. He was to her, once
again, the cool stranger who offered her little friendship and warmth, despite their relation.
He reached for a plug, a bright yellow one that was shaped in graduated spheres and
looked at her. “Have you ever wore one?”
“Once. Have other women worn them for you?”
“A few of them.”
“Did you like it when a woman wore it for you?”
Heron thought for a moment. “To tell you the truth, I can’t really remember. I guess it
didn’t really make a difference at the time.” He put the plug back in its place and lifted his eyes
to Riley.
She caught her breath, because she could see the desire in the dark depths, a smoke that
was the remembrance of the passion and erotic need that they had shared downstairs.
Heron said, “I had told you that I would take you when it was time.”
“And you told me you would let me know when that was.”
“Yes, I did.”
Riley looked at him, half hoping, half dreading that Heron was going to say now was the
time.
He picked up one of the simpler models of butt plug and held it up to her. “It will be that
time when you wear one of these for me.”
He set the plug back in the case and closed the case.
“Come on, Jack, it’s time to go,” he called to the back room.
Without waiting, he walked out of the tool room, while Riley rooted to where she stood,
stunned and, yet, excited.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Riley drove up to Sausalito where Roberta and Tanner had bought their house. It was a
sprawling white two story house with five bedrooms, four-car garage, a small servants’ quarter
that could house a housemaid and a cook. The house was set high up on the hills, providing a
view of the small bay, the small tourist town of Sausalito, San Francisco, and the Golden Gate
Bridge.
When the maid opened the door to her knock, Riley found her sister and brother-in-law
unpacking.
“You didn’t invite me down here to help you unpack, did you?” Riley said warily.
“Well, I like that,” Roberta said, hugging her sister. “After all the times I helped you
move in and move out. How do you like our humble abode?”