What He Believes (11 page)

“Sit down, Adriana.”

This time, I sat.
 
I wasn’t completely sure why.
 
It was a reflex, automatic, almost like
he had a hold on me I could resist for only so long.
 
It was like fighting against a wave that
was trying to pull you under in the middle of the ocean.
 
You could try to swim against the
current, but eventually your muscles and your breathing gave out, and you
couldn’t fight anymore.
 
All you
wanted to do was surrender.

Surrender.

The word pulsed through my brain.

“What are you thinking?” Callum asked.

“I’m thinking about how I have no idea what the
hell I’m still doing here,” I answered honestly.

The answer seemed to please him.

“Have you been here before?”

“No.
 
I mean
,
I’ve been to New York before.
 
I live here. Well, I just moved here.
But I’ve never been to this club before.
 
I was supposed to meet a guy here.”

He looked around.
 
“And where is this guy?”

“He, um, had to cancel.”
 
I wasn’t sure why I was telling him all
this, but I had to draw the line somewhere.
 
It was one thing to reveal your date
wasn’t there, but it was another level of humiliation to have to admit he’d
completely blown you off, no text, no phone call, nothing.

Callum raised his eyes at me skeptically.
 
“So you know what goes on in a place
like this?”

“Yes, of course,” I lied.
 
What was he talking about, a place like
this?

A waitress appeared seemingly out of nowhere and
set a fresh drink down in front of Callum.
 
“Can I get you anything else, Mr. Wilder?”

She was practically salivating at the sight of
him.
 
She was pretty, too, with
auburn hair and huge boobs and a tiny little waist.
 
He must have been a regular here for her
to know his name.
 

But Callum kept his gorgeous blue eyes on
me.
 
“No, thank you,” he said to the
waitress, his gaze never leaving mine.
 
“But my friend Adriana will have a seltzer with lemon.”

“I don’t like lemon.”
 
We were friends now?
 

“Lemon is good for you,” he said, nodding to
the waitress to go and get my drink.

She scurried off.

Callum stared at me across the table, the sides
of his mouth sliding up into a knowing grin.
 
He said nothing to me, and I shifted on
the booth nervously.

“Are
you…
I mean
,
do you come here a lot?” I asked.
 

“No.”

“So you’re not a regular here?”

“I’m here because I’m thinking of buying this
place.”

“So you can infuse it with cash and fire
everyone before hiring new workers who will work for half the money?”
 
I scoffed, hoping to make it clear to him
that I knew exactly the kind of company he ran.

“Ahh, you’re familiar with my work, I
see.”
 
He seemed pleased and not
embarrassed in the slightest.

“If you want to call it work.”
 
The waitress returned with my drink, and
I went to take a sip.

Before I could, Callum had slid around the
booth so that he was sitting right next to me.
 
He was so fast, so close, that my heart
began to beat hard in my chest.
 
The
smell of his spicy aftershave filled my nose.

“Do not drink that,” Callum said, removing the
drink from my hand and setting it down on the table.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Never drink from a glass you haven’t seen
poured,” he said.
 
“Don’t you know
the statistics on women getting drugs slipped into their drinks?”
 
He shook his head.
 
“It’s sickening.”

“You made me order that drink!” I said.
 
“And besides, I want it.
 
I’m thirsty.”
  
It wasn’t true.
 
But for some reason, I wanted to show
him up, wanted to make him see that I wasn’t going to just do whatever it was
that he said.
 
He was so
bossy.

I reached over and picked up the drink and
brought it to my lips.
 
But he
grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
 
He
took the glass out of my hand and set it back down on the table.

He slid his own drink across the table so that
it was sitting in front of me.
 
“You
can have some of mine.”

“But I haven’t seen that one poured either,” I
said, proud of myself for not falling for one of his tricks.

“Fair enough.”
 
He picked up the glass and took a long
drink, letting drops of water pool on his bottom lip.
 
Then he leaned over and brushed his lips
against mine without asking. It wasn’t a kiss exactly – it was too short
and soft for that.
 
But it was the
promise of one.

 
Heat roared through my body like a
searing furnace.
 
He tasted like
lemon and soda water, and something else, something sexy and dangerous.
 
Blood pounded in my ears, and the beat
of the music pulsed through my body.
 

Callum leaned in close to me.
 
“Do you know what goes on in those rooms
back there, Adriana?” he whispered, indicating the rear of the building, where
an open archway led to a hallway that ran perpendicular to the restaurant.

“Yes,” I lied, my voice cracking.

“What?” he pressed.
 
His hand reached up and pushed my hair
off my shoulders, his fingertips brushing lightly against my neck.
 
He was so close to me I could feel the
heat radiating off his body and I could still taste the lemon on my lips.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

He gave me an amused smile, then slowly and
sensuously reached down and undid the top button of my shirt.

I gasped as his palm slid down over my
cleavage, the tip of his finger slipping briefly under the lace cup of my bra.

My first instinct was to pick up the drink that
was sitting on the table and throw it in his face.
 
But a second later my outrage melted
away, replaced with a delicious warmth that raced through my body and settled
between my legs.

I willed myself not to moan.

I turned to look at him, and his eyes searched
mine, like he was looking for any sign that I was going to fight against this,
that I was going to admonish him for unbuttoning my shirt out here in front of
everyone without even asking me.

But I didn’t say a thing.

“Good girl,” he said, nodding in satisfaction.

He took another sip of his water, then got up
and threw some bills down on the table.

“Come,” he said.

“What?” I asked, my head spinning from what had
just happened.

“We’re going back there.”
 
He tipped his head toward the back
hallway.

Do you know what goes on back there?
 
he’d
asked me.

What
did
go on back there? I
wondered.
 
Sex?
 
Drugs?
 
Rock n’ roll?
 

“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head.
 
“I’m sorry, but I can’t go –”

He slid back into the booth, took my cheek in
his hand, pulled me close so that I was sure he was going to kiss me,
really
kiss me this time.
 
But he stopped
just short of my lips, but stayed close enough that when he began to talk, I
could almost feel his lips brush against mine.

“I told you to never apologize.
 
Now you have disobeyed me.”

“Disobeyed you?” I asked, not able to keep
myself from giggling.
 
“That’s
absurd, you’re not even – ”

“I will be in room 4D,” he said.
 
“I will wait there for five
minutes.
 
If you decide not to join
me, I will leave through the back door.”
 
His fingers slid down and undid another button on my shirt, peeling back
the fabric slowly,
the
front hook of my bra now
completely exposed.

My panties were soaked, and my mind screamed at
me to stop, that this was wrong, that I knew nothing about this man, that the
effect he was having on my body wasn’t real.

But it
was
real.

I was turned on, a thrumming sensation that
vibrated through my body.

“Please know,” he said,
 
“that if you do decide to join me, I
will
 
be
punishing you.”

He stood up and disappeared into the back
hallway, leaving me there, panting and breathless.

Holy crap.
 
What the
hell
 
had
just happened?

***

As soon as he was gone I buttoned my
shirt.
 
Then I whipped out my phone
and googled the name of the restaurant.

Whipped Midtown Manhattan.

I stared at the screen in horror.

Whipped was a BDSM club.

BDSM.
 
Paddles.
 
Chains.
 
Blindfolds and gags
and all kinds of other stuff that both repulsed and fascinated me.

Actually, according to the website, Whipped was
‘BDSM light.’
  

“
WHIPPED functions as a full-functional
restaurant and bar with a full menu.
 
For our more adventurous guests, private rooms are available.
 
There are no public play spaces.”

Public play spaces?

I couldn’t believe some guy I’d met on a dating
app had invited me to a BDSM club.
 
I couldn’t believe the fact that the place was called Whipped hadn’t
tipped me off.
 
But how the hell was
I supposed to know what really went on here?
 
I’d just thought maybe they were known
for their desserts or their mashed potatoes or something.

I was so not in Michigan anymore.

Public play spaces!

I will be punishing you.

What did that even mean?

I reached over and took a sip of Callum’s drink
in an effort to cool myself down. My skin felt prickly and hot.
 

The sour bite of lemon filled my mouth and I
remembered how Callum’s lips had felt against mine, the broadness of his chest,
the way his hands had felt as he unbuttoned my shirt.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was up and
moving toward the back hallway toward the private rooms.
 
I felt like an imposter, and I half
expected one of the people who worked there to stop me, to tell me that I had
no business being back there.

But no one even noticed.

It was quieter back here, and I wasn’t sure if
that was a good sign or a bad one.
 

I ventured down the hallway, my heart thrumming
against my ribs, looking for room 4D.
 
It was three doors down on the right.

I stopped outside the door and took a deep
breath, listening for clues as to what might be going on inside these
rooms.
 
After a few seconds, my ears
were able to filter out the music coming from the restaurant, and I zoned in on
the sounds wafting out from behind the closed doors.

Slaps.

Smacks.

Moans.

A woman whimpering.

The sound of a man’s voice, gruff and
demanding.

Get out of here
, my mind yelled.
 
Get the fuck out of here, Adriana,
and don’t come back.
 

Instead, I raised my hand and knocked on the
door of 4D.
 

“Come in,” Callum called.

 
I
turned the knob and walked in, bracing myself for whatever I might find inside.

But there wasn’t anything scary about the room.

In fact, it was quite the opposite.
 

There was a dark grey couch pushed against one
wall, and a soft-looking leather bench on the side of the room.
 
The only thing that was slightly scary was
a contraption in the corner, almost like a bench press machine with fur cuffs
hanging from it.
 
I quickly turned
away from it.