Double-Crossed (26 page)

It was the most beautiful thing Marianne had ever seen. Then Marianne noticed that the woman looked a little like her.

“Do you like? This is what Peter has chosen for you. He said that tonight is your virginal appearance, and he wants you dressed as a bride, a BDSM bride, that is.” Both Hazel and the model laughed at this joke. Marianne smiled and tried to retain some sense of decorum through the sheer fun of it all. The beauty of the clothing amazed her, including how much attention they'd paid to the detail, and how exciting it was to know that she'd look so lovely tonight.

“Can I try it on?” she asked, almost in hushed tones.

“Drink some of your champagne and relax,” said Hazel. “You can try it all on in a minute. Peter gave us your measurements, and we have everything in your size, sitting on a small table behind the screen there. Deanna here is the closest to your size that we have.”

Marianne took a sip from her light, tingly champagne. Hazel dismissed Deanna and instructed her to remove the clothes. While she undressed off to the side, Hazel asked Marianne some questions.

“You're fortunate in our eyes. Peter is our favorite customer, and to be frank, some of the models here hoped they might be the one that he chose. He's an enigma in the BDSM world.” Hazel paused here for effect, eyeing Marianne carefully. “You're very beautiful, and you have a vulnerability he can work with; I see why he likes you so much.” She smiled and gave Marianne a nudge. “But still, we're sorry to see him taken.”

Marianne thrilled at her words.

“I only met Peter a week ago. It's hard for me to think of him as taken now.”

“A man like Peter knows what he wants and gets it as soon as he decides. Do you know what he does for a living?

“He's a lawyer.”

Hazel stared directly into her eyes unself-consciously. She had soft green eyes that set off her white skin and her flaming red hair beautifully, but she looked so hard into Marianne that Marianne suddenly felt conscious of it.

“But you do know that he only represents truly bad people. He's famous for it. In addition, he is excellent at his job. He calls it integrity. The task of his profession is not judgment; it's a fair and just representation. Peter believes this so strongly that he will take terrible cases just to be sure they're not vilified.” She looked away, and her cheeks grew faintly red. “Here, we find this admirable. He's widely respected for this attitude and the strength of conviction that he has.” She looked back at Marianne. “It's a very big thing for someone as admired as Peter to take a permanent lover.”

“I didn't know that Peter was so admired. I'm not surprised, because the way he is encourages it, but I am surprised to find that it is so clearly seen.”

Hazel smiled a large, warm smile. Her eyes were fond, and she reached out to Marianne to embrace and engulf her with her being. “Perhaps Peter will become even more now that he is two. Perhaps we will have a deeper, more intricate version of him now that we have a sister to soften him.”

Marianne smiled. She felt immediately touched by these words, and flattered. She reached out and took Hazel's hand.

“Thank you. You pay me a great compliment. All I know is that I want to be friends, and I hope that I become worthy of that in the future.”

“I'm sure you will! Now! Time for you to try on the outfit! Then we can make any alterations that we need.”

Chapter Thirteen

With her new purchases in hand, Marianne left Gallery Serpentine and headed for The Pleasure Chest. Jen worked out front there, arranging a window display. Marianne had been several hours at the fitting, staying to chat further with Hazel and Deanna. She'd found it so exciting and stimulating, she didn't want to leave too early.

It'd been a good week. Even though she experienced the trauma of the encounter with Don, she felt safe medically with the doctor and then in good hands legally with Peter. When they had some breathing space, she would file a suit against Don, and Peter would either represent her himself or get his firm to do it. Don would pay for what he did, and Marianne felt she had nothing more to fear from Don and the world to which he belonged.

Joe hadn't contacted her at all since he'd won the hearing, and the absence gave her confidence. She'd promised not to be a liability for him, and even though Joe got what he wanted, Marianne felt that their rapport, their history, and their deep inner knowing of each other would be enough to tide her over now. Joe might be a bad man, but Marianne reached deep inside him and called forth a kind of loyalty. A loyalty that could still be relied upon.

The doctor had proven to be something of an ally, if a little odd. Despite the accolades at the hospital, the nature of his illness alienated Marianne from him, and she couldn't find it inside her to connect too deeply. His peculiar appearance, combined with his habit of mocking her, might be too much to bear, and she had to admit to herself she found it hard to trust him entirely. She couldn't get over the feeling she had that unnerved her. He'd be a good friend, but she doubted her ability to get close to him.

Then, of course, she had Peter. A week ago, she didn't know him. How much had happened in a few days! How far they had come in the shortest space of time! The intimacy grew up between them so quickly, Marianne could only feel encouraged by it. The unusual situation moved beyond previous experience. She'd never let herself go with this intensity with anyone so easily, and from the accounts that she got from others; this situation had Peter in new territory as well.

Common sense told Marianne that nothing like this happened very fast, and that a true love affair would take time and would build to something long lasting and deep. However, what spoke to her now lay below her common sense and her reason. A drive pushed her. A call from the wildness inside each of them to something greater than the sum of their parts. It wasn't the sex, either. The sex had primal need at its core. That need drove the sex. The sex didn't drive the relationship.

These ideas were going through Marianne's head when she walked into The Pleasure Chest. Jen met her at the door. Her eyes sparkled, and it woke Marianne out of her musings.

“My God, I've been watching you walk down the street, and you look amazing! You're in love, girl! I don't care if it's only been a few days; you're in love. I can't believe it.” Jen leaned in and hugged the startled Marianne. “I couldn't be happier for you, hon.”

Marianne felt touched, if a little confused.

“You were watching me?”

“Sure, standing here setting up the window display, and I happened to look down the street. I saw you walking toward the shop. I guess I wanted to keep an eye on you. Silly I know. Some sort of protection thing. I can't help worrying about you. As if something dark is creeping up on you from behind. But, I didn't need to. You looked so great and so full of joy and confidence! I just wanted to know I could be a part of whatever you were up to!” She smiled a huge, beaming smile.

Today, Jen dressed in a lace cat suit. It would have been completely transparent if it were not for the fact that she wore black lace underwear beneath it. Long leather boots and her long black hair loose down her back accented the getup. Her makeup had an intensity to it: stark white face contrasted with heavy black liner around the eyes, with midnight blue lipstick. She looked devilishly sexy. Marianne loved having her as a friend, so she decided to ignore the intuitive overprotection Jen demonstrated toward her.

“Well, I am really happy. I feel like I may actually be in love. Is that ridiculous? I don't think it is my pussy talking, but it'd be helpful to have your opinion.”

“Come up to the counter with me. I'll get the staff to finish this.”

Jen called out to the staff, organized them to complete her window, and the two women sat behind the counter on stools, talking over coffee.

“Baby, I fell in love with Bill the exact same way over fifteen years ago. Nothing has diminished since. If anything, we're stronger than we've ever been. Our love did grow when it involved more than sex. We have the business, and we have our house, and we have some mutual investments, but on the whole, I tell people that I fell in love with Bill the day we met.” She added a slight smile. “To be frank, I think it happens a lot that way when people are not vanilla. There's honesty to the way we live our lives. It takes courage to be the people that we are, and I think the rewards are experiences like deep passion.”

Intrigued, Marianne wanted to hear more. Besides it felt good to have a conversation with someone who didn't think she was a few sandwiches short of her picnic.

“I do think I may be in love. I haven't told him. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that yet, but I can't believe how strong it is.”

“This has forever written all over it, sweets. All I can say is, it's brilliant that you met in my shop. I know that you probably would have met him under other circumstances, seeing as he worked for Joe, but I think it is wonderful that it actually happened here.” She broke off, touching Marianne on the shoulder affectionately. “Now, time for girly talk. Show me what you have in the bag.”

Marianne spent the next hour or so going thought the contents of the bag. They laughed and chatted until Marianne realized the time at three, and Peter would be at her house at six expecting to be able to take her out to the “surprise.”

Hugging her friend good-bye, she made a beeline for home.

Once there, she ran herself a hot bath. She shaved her body, buffed, and prepared herself for Peter's arrival. Having studied the way Hazel did her makeup in Gallery Serpentine, Marianne decided to do the same. She opened her laptop and found some decent directions on how best to apply makeup for the look she wanted.

She chose a very glamorous style of eye makeup, and although Marianne had many different products—another one of the perks of having been with a wealthy asshole for a long time—she always made herself up the same way. So using the directions she had found on the Internet, she went for a very alluring look—something intense, heavily shimmering, in silver and gold to match the beautiful white of her bridal BDSM outfit.

With her body polished and prepared, she put the beautiful lingerie on just before time for Peter to arrive. She thrilled knowing he'd picked it all for her and that he would have his own version of anticipating what he'd see when she opened the door.

The stockings had a shimmery silver edge to them at the lace tops, and the corset, in a mother-of-pearl white, created its own sheen to add to the overall effect. In the shop, they'd shown her the trick to lacing up the corset on her own; she still struggled, and Marianne thanked God she'd left lots of time to get ready and did things like her nails earlier in the evening.

When finally done with the lacing at the back, she slid into her high, silver heels, and the look completed before her eyes. Standing in front of the mirror in the bedroom, she expressed delight with what she saw. Her hair hung down straight, falling low down her back, sitting in a delicate line underneath her shoulder blades. Her large breasts protruded out of the top of the corset and sat high and full, the smooth ribbon just covering her nipples. It made her breasts look firm and seductive.

On her lower half, she wore the small thong surrounded by the light tulle skirt that came just to the tops of her stockings, and below that, the rest of her was all leg with her higher-than-high, silver fuck-me shoes at the bottom. The effect was a delicious combination of sophisticated burlesque and high society slut. She felt sexy and seductive and caught between the two identities presented to her in the mirror.

Just at that moment, the doorbell rang.

Marianne looked through the peephole to be sure Peter stood at her door. She didn't want anyone else catching her in this outfit.

It was Peter.

She stood half behind the door, so that it covered her, and opened it. He wore black pants and a black shirt, and with this outfit offsetting his black hair and dark blue eyes, he looked gorgeous. As she let him in, she couldn't help noticing the muscles ripple under his shirt as he moved into the room. She caught a brief smell of his cologne, and her pussy quivered. Moving behind him, she closed the door and stood with her back to it as he turned to face her.

The admiration in his eyes, immediate and obvious, thrilled her. She could see that she astounded him. He stood back and looked her up and down with serious, penetrating eyes that told her he meant business and that this would be a very wild ride.

“Turn around,” he said first.

She turned and thought of his eyes looking past the tulle to see the white thong slide up into her ass, slightly parting her ass cheeks. His eyes would see the intricate lacing of the corset and the seams up the back of her stockings.

“Face me.”

She turned back to look at him. He walked up to her and kissed her hard on her lipstick-red mouth. He pressed into her lips, and she could feel the lipstick smearing all over her lower face, but she didn't care. Feeling his hot tongue probing her and his hardness pressed against her lower belly obliterated all other thought. He had his hand behind her head, and he pulled her hard into his face. She could smell him, feel him, and taste him, and when she opened her eyes, she saw his passion-filled eyes staring into hers with a wildness more animal than man.

He pulled away abruptly, leaving her disheveled and panting.

“Not yet, my nasty girl. Later for us. Just now, we have a little appointment. Tonight will mostly be about you watching. Depending on how you do, I may give you something to do, but for the most part, you will just be watching what goes on there. Are you ready for a wild night with me?”

“Oh, yes, I'm ready for anything with you.”

“Good. Then fix your lipstick, and let's go.”

Marianne moved to go behind him to get to the bathroom. As she walked past, he grabbed her hand, drawing her around for another, softer kiss on her lips. Pulling away, he spoke again. “And Marianne?”

“Yes?”

“You look incredible.”

“Thank you, Peter, and thank you for the clothes.”