Teach Me: Sinful Desires (17 page)

“That, sweet lady, you’d have to ask my brother. He’s a better story teller than me.”

“Your twin?” she asked.

He winked.

“Identical?” she asked.

“Unfortunately,” he responded.

“Take me to him,” she challenged.

Bryce eyed her thoughtfully, and then shook his head.

“You’re hiding something.”

Bryce reached his fork into her plate. He scooped some eggs and fed them to her. “I want to take you for a ride. Show you the rose gardens. It’s best seen under the moon though.”

“No thanks.”

Destini ate from his fork under his watchful stare. Breakfast was good. She was famished, realizing she had skipped dinner last night.

“Then let me comb your hair. Or do you brush it?” he asked. He cocked his head and looked at her thick curls that had drawn up and frizzed after her shower.

“No thank you,” she said with a smile. The request flattered her but she refused to admit it.

“Writing again?” he asked.

“Yes. Does that please you?” she replied.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Me and countless others.”

Breakfast went on without much more conversation. She wasn’t disturbed by the silence. Not even by his penetrating stare. Bryce fit in a place he’d carved for himself in her world. She wasn’t sure how or when he made the transition.

“I should go,” he said abruptly.

Destini glanced up. “Now?”

“I’ll be back around eight. The moon is full then. We will go for a ride. Dress warmly.”

Bryce rose from the table and headed for the door. He stopped at the roses, touched their petals. He spoke while admiring their beauty. “I can’t wait to make love to you in the garden tonight.”

He left.

Destini should have objected. She should have demanded the explanation he was so careful to conceal. Then it occurred to her. She didn’t know how too. This was Bryce’s game now, not hers.

***

Bryce would arrive soon. Destini went through her cottage, stopping to turn off the lamplights when the odd feeling of unreality settled over her. It was as if she’d fallen asleep to wake in another place, time of her life. There was something to be said about transitions, understanding those small moments that propel you toward your present. Blink and you’ll miss all the pertinent clues to explain the reason ‘why’.

Why had he gone this far for her?

Why had she not quit and fled the day she learned she worked for him?

Why had she waited even now for whatever was to come next?

Was this her future?

You still haven’t asked yourself the real question, Destini. You know, the one you pretend isn’t there. Why is it part of you hopes he does win this battle of possession over you? Why do you secretly think about signing that contract? 

Most of her Saturday was spent on the couch. She slept, read a book, and then slept some more between bites of raisin bread and a bag of unsalted pretzels. Hours later, she finally rose from her mundane routine and began to dress. Choosing jeans and a cable-knit turtleneck, she first groomed herself from head to toe. She struggled over deciding between boots and her sneakers. Ultimately she chose comfort over fashion. When she sat down in her chair to wait for his return, the dark silence of her place made her isolation more keenly felt. Could she admit that curiosity had bloomed into some undeniable attraction when she blinked? Was Bryce just another Russell out to control, ultimately, to disappoint her fractured heart? Destini’s gaze left the void of her thoughts and focused once more on the ceramic green vase that held two dozen long-stemmed roses. Black Jade roses, which were his dark promise of more things taboo.

Bryce arrived minutes later. There was a slow rumble of an engine that soon eased into an idling purr. She could see him sitting behind the wheel, staring at her cottage. Destini didn’t move. She waited, and the soft knocks followed. She opened the door to find him dressed in all black. His leather biker’s jacket and gloves added to his handsomeness. The thick roll of his turtleneck squared his dimpled chin. His broad shoulders, narrow waist, and muscle-packed thighs in his black jeans gave her thoughts she dared not reveal. He offered his hand. She stepped out, locking the door behind her. When she turned to follow, he had moved in even closer. He towered over her, blocking the moon and the universe. At first she didn’t know why he remained so close. Then he demonstrated with a brush of his lips over hers and kissed her nose. It was an act of tenderness that made her want to trust him. Could Bryce Carson Gaylor be worthy of her trust now?

The car he chose was a two-seater vintage convertible Mercedes. In the dark she had a hard time noticing the model number. She eased inside and he hurried around and got behind the wheel. Night sounds were the only ones between them. Bryce hadn’t spoken, other than to tell her she was beautiful before he sped in reverse then swerved the sleek vehicle into drive.

The convertible glided over the road with spectral ease. With the top down and him shifting into higher speed she felt weightless, almost airborne. If it weren’t for his hand that kept reaching over to stroke her thigh she would have considered the night drive a dream.

This was no dream.

On the winding, unlit roads of Manchester Hills, and locked behind the campus gates, they became the night. The moon was full but the stars absent. She dropped her head back and trained her eyes on the moon until it became a glowing disc that he seemed to race toward. The campus was bathed in a soft, ethereal moonlight light. Somewhere, students crept in and out of each other’s rooms, or gathered in the rectory and watched their favorite reality show. Teachers went about a Saturday night by eating with spouses or family, reading, or chatting up friends on Skype. Somewhere under this same moon there was normalcy of her mother who prayed often after rereading a favorite bible verse from her grandmothers’ bible. She cast her gaze over to Bryce. What would the night bring for them?

He veered off the main road to an unseen one. She thought they were crashing through trees. It turned out that it was a paved one-lane roadway for bikers or joggers. The small sports car fit nicely. The dense tree cover they passed through blocked the moonlight and the path grew even more treacherous. Instead of slowing, Bryce continued at quantum speed. Exhilarated, terrified, and aware, she knew she was his because she could never find her way out of the dark forest.

The car purred just before it slowed to a cruise. Then they came to a full stop. It was over, and to her surprise she was disappointed. Destini reclined back. She surveyed their surroundings.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“A beginning,” he said. He left the car and went around to open her door. Destini took his hand and was pulled into his arms. Bryce kissed her fully on the mouth and she made no effort to resist. She was then led away from the car. It was a garden, an acre or two of wild beauty below the hilltop path he parked on. The entrance was an arch of ivy on painted white iron that led behind the cover of large manicured shrubbery. To her amazement, each side was sprinkled with black roses.

She felt his gloved hand slip into hers, giving her palm a squeeze. “What do you think?” he asked, his mouth a breath from her ear.

“They’re beautiful.” It was the first thought that came to her mind so she shared it.

“Many things are, especially if you want them to be.”

Disbelieving his coy response, she let go of his hand. She had to touch the night blooms, inhale them. Their open petals, under moonlight, compelled her to. So she did. The perfumed majesty of the delicate flowers left her enchanted. What else would she find in the strange garden, she wondered? She fingered the soft, dark petals. There were hundreds of them. She saw the domed white cover of a gazebo. She started walking toward it, stopping every few feet to gaze upon the flowers, feeling as if many were yawning as she passed.

“They bloom under a full moon,” he said behind her, as if reading her thoughts.

Destini kept going. It was a gazebo, with beautiful benches and a brick-layered central fountain. She couldn’t take another step forward. Bryce went around her. He climbed the steps with his hands shoved down into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Destini?”

Destini switched her gaze to his face, cast in the shadow of the night.

“When we are alone, would it be a problem for you to call me Sir?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure how she intended to tell him that she already did in her head. The Bryce Carson she knew at Wellington was in no way the same man who she saw him as today.

“Why do you ask?” she answered.

“We all wear masks,” he continued. “Sometimes we forget who we really are. Sometimes, if we are lucky, someone comes along and shows us who we really want to be. I cheated with you. I gave you the fantasy before I made the introduction. Sir, is a name I’ve had for many years with my submissive’s.”

“I’m not one of your submissive’s.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked. “I wanted to have breakfast with you. I did. I wanted to spend the evening with you. I am. And when I want to touch you. I will.”

She stopped walking at his side. He let go of her hand and faced her. She looked him over and then lifted her gaze to his stare once more. “Did you bring me here because of some cult or secret society you want me to belong too? Is that the real purpose of the contract?”

He chuckled.

“I’m serious. The club, this school and the history of this place, all of it seems purposefully misleading when it comes to you Bryce. I need to know who the man is that wants me to give in to him the way you’ve asked.”

“I didn’t bring you here to Gaylor. In fact I did everything in my power to try to stop your interview,” Bryce said.

“Now I’m really confused.” Destini chuckled.

He nodded in agreement. “My brother. He and I don’t get a long. He recruited you from under my nose.”

“How did he know about me?”

Bryce started to walk away again. She hurried her steps to catch up to him. She took his hand to regain his trust and help build hers. She wanted the answer to her question. She waited until he was ready to give it.

“You asked me about the Knights of Gaylor. It’s something me and my brother began again.”

“Again?” she asked.

“Think of it as a fraternity of sorts, a brotherhood. Men with different lives but the same ideals and, tastes. Men, who are supposed to be heroic, disciplined, accomplished in the real world, yet have secret desires in their personal world. We come together to protect each other like our fathers did. The number is twelve. Always has been and always will be.”

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me?” she asked.

“Something happened and I decided I wanted to leave Gaylor. My brother and I argued. We parted ways. To do so would mean I’d have to sever ties with him. But since I  helped build Gaylor again we came up with a compromise. We divided our worlds. I went to Wellington and started over under the name Carson. I focused on what I’m good at. Helping children. But it wasn’t satisfying. After a year I was back at the club we owned and back at the table with my brethren.” He looked at her. “Our worlds weren’t so divided any more. The knights of Gaylor share everything. Think of it like therapy. Men like us need someone to talk too. Someone to help us keep our perspective and justify our desires. I told
them
about you. How beautiful you were. Shy. How much I wanted to know you but never would.”

“Wait. You told these men about me while we were at Wellington?”

He nodded.

“What else Bryce?” she asked.

“I lied.”

“To who?” she asked.

He paused. He looked her in the eyes. “To you. I lied about a parent revealing your books to me. It was my brother. He thought it funny that my secret crush is an erotic romance writer who hid  from her passions. Taunted me about it.”

“I think I know the rest of this story,” she said with disappointment.

“With our family issues surfacing again he wanted me here at Gaylor. To keep the school going under the Gaylor governance. He made you an offer to get my attention. And then I knew I had to make my move.”

“What do you want from me? Love?” she asked.

“Don’t say love. Don’t put that label on us, because it’s so unneeded, so stale.” He waved off the word with a deep frown as if it polluted the air.

“Then what?” she asked.

“Commitment.”

“You want me to commit to being yours? That contract was more than commitment. It was complete servitude.”

“That contract was the bylaws to our trust agreement and we can amend it. I need to hear you say yes to me.” He told her. Together they climbed the steps of their destination. He strolled slowly around the gazebo, eyes sweeping the shadows of the dome roof as if seeing something that wasn’t there. He stopped and met her stare. “What would it take for you to say yes, Destini?”

Did she know the answer?
Her childhood was molded by the strong principles of her mother’s faith. She took every lesson literally until she reached puberty and found no answers for the questions plaguing her. Even then she knew better than to ask, and she chose to hide those curious feelings, never to explore and never, ever to indulge. So now things had to have order, meaning, a purpose and that is the rule she lived by—mostly. Destini found her freedom years later behind a penname and a fictional character. Bryce wanted her to go further. He asked her to shed her security blanket of anonymity for another. Live another secret life? Teacher and educator by day, and his sex slave by night. Why did something so controlling and risky tempt her?

“Gaylor Knights, BDSM, a club of Dom’s who have slaves, submissive’s to use at their whim? No wonder nothing more came back from a Google search.”

“Behind every fable is a misplaced truth.” Bryce cocked his head to the side. The wind trapped in the gazebo tossed his flattened locks of hair over his brow. “You asked me about love. Love is what people call feelings they never take the time to understand. In my lifestyle and hopefully yours our commitment will bind us in ways that go deeper than love. I’m looking for a life partner. And my brother was right. I needed to come home and commit again to who I am. And I need you to do it.”