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Authors: Alison Tyler

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BOOK: With or Without You
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‘You’re not?’

‘Is that why you’re with Travis … or Dean?’

‘I can’t help either of them.’

‘Not true. You can help anyone you want to help, Nora.’

‘I don’t need to help either of them,’ she insisted. ‘That’s not why they’re with me.’

‘So why do you think I’d want to be with someone for the same reason?’

‘I didn’t,’ she said lamely. ‘I just meant, since you are decked out like that, you might want to take advantage of the costume. Live it up a little bit.’

I knew what she was saying. In Nora’s world, a fuck session would fix everything. My mood. My frame of mind. It would make all my problems with Anthony disappear like pixie dust. This was how she’d helped me deal with the first night of breaking up with Byron. But this time, I didn’t want to hide from my problems. I wanted to confront them. Somehow, being dressed up like Nora helped me with this attitude. I felt strong and empowered. Nora, meanwhile, looked only a bit like me. She had on a wig to cover her short hair, and she was wearing a black suit, but it was so tight-fitting it could have been made of that shiny spray-on vinyl. She had on a pair of reading glasses with clear lenses, and she held a book under her arm, a great big book like one that I would read, except this one was
The Joy of Sex
. ‘I’m a professor of sexology,’ she’d told me earlier when I’d asked for an explanation for taking a few liberties with the outfit I’d suggested.

I’d let her trick me out exactly how she wanted to. I
was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. The sexiest Little Red Riding Hood in the world.

Now, I shook my head ‘no’, when a wolf came up and growled at me about my goodies, ‘not interested’ was the look I gave him.

‘How did he find out, anyway?’ Nora asked.

This was the first I’d told her about what had happened the previous night. I’d needed to process the situation myself. But when Nora had asked where Anthony was, I’d broken down and told her.

She waved to the bartender nearest our table, and we each ordered a Flirtini.

‘Come on, how? Did Marcia tell him?’

I shrugged. It wasn’t important. What I did wouldn’t have been less wrong if he hadn’t found out. What
was
important was something I didn’t even think I could say aloud to Nora. So how was I ever going to be able to say it to Anthony?

‘Normal people just don’t act like that,’ Nora insisted again, which was an odd statement for her, as she doesn’t put much stock into ‘normal’ anything. ‘They don’t pick a fight with you and then nicely walk you to your car, stare at you the way you said. Look at you longingly. They don’t stay quiet like that, waiting for you to make amends. Waiting for you to do what they want. How did he let you know he’d found out about Marcia? In some fucked-up story? What a stupid fucking thing to fight about.’

‘It didn’t feel like a fight,’ I said softly. My cape was cumbersome, and I pulled it off and set it next to me at the bar. Beneath, I had on little tight red dress, something that I would never have felt comfortable in if Nora hadn’t been right next to me. She’d picked the form-fitting scarlet dress for me to wear, and high-heeled red Mary Jane shoes. I had a hat on, too, of course, a fedora that was more shocking pink than actually red, making me the hippest Little Red Riding Hood of all time.

Nora lasted as long as she could in the suit. Even a tight suit like this one made her feel ill at ease. At midnight, when she had to announce the contestants for her new show, she hurried off to change into her real costume. Now, her bright-pink panties were clearly visible through the sheer white nurse’s uniform. She’d gone with Nora the Naughty Nurse after all.

Aside from our little bet, why was I dressed up like this? I longed for my comfortable uniform, my black slacks, cashmere sweater, sensible black shoes. Why was I even here?

That was simple. Nora had insisted that I come to the party. There were too many things going on, she said. The announcement at midnight of the winners. The launching of the perfume. Besides, I’d promised. She needed to have at least one person nearby who she could trust. One person who she knew didn’t want anything from her. That person was me.

And I did honestly feel a bit special for the fact that Nora had shrugged off all of her admirers in order to talk with me. There were photographers who wanted to take her picture in a line with all the up-and-coming bartenders. There were fans who wanted her to sign their bodies with lipsticks and ballpoint pens. There were investors who hoped to woo her into agreeing to another deal with them. Nora had eyes and ears only for me, loyal beyond loyal.

‘It was a fight,’ she insisted again. She’d just come back after changing her outfit, but clearly she wasn’t ready to change the conversation. ‘He pushed you, challenged you. And when you wouldn’t explain yourself, he stopped talking. Aggressive behaviour. Then passive aggressive.’

‘But it didn’t feel like a fight,’ I said again, trying to sound insistent. ‘I liked being next to him on the sofa. I was turned on watching him play with the paddle. I didn’t feel angry. Just intimidated. I didn’t know what to do.’

More than that, really, I chided myself. Be honest now,
Eleanor. It was much more than that. I knew exactly what to do, and, as usual, I had fled. When was I going to stop running away from the things I wanted? When was I going to silence the frightened voice inside my head and go after the experiences I truly desired. Like being draped over Anthony’s knees, his hands on the waistband of my panties, pulling them down my thighs. His fingertips playing over my naked skin before bringing the paddle down hard. I’d liked the sound it made when he’d simply slapped it against the palm of his hand. I got wet simply from imagining the sound it might make when it hit my ass.

I shut my eyes tight, but the image didn’t leave. It was so easy for me to imagine Anthony doing things to me. Tying me up. Spanking me. Fucking me.

So why was that so hard to admit to him?

Worse things are said aloud every single day. I thought of Byron and his admission that he didn’t love me. I thought of his insistence that I was the one who needed psychiatric help. That I had somehow driven him into the willing arms of Gwen. Byron able to say those hurtful things, without having the decency even to blush. This wasn’t something evil or harmful or even all that shocking.

Then why couldn’t I even say it to Nora. Why couldn’t I look at her, turn rose red if I had to, and say, ‘I can get wet simply by looking up the word “spank” in a dictionary. Of reading that word aloud. Sometimes, when nobody’s nearby, I look up that term in Wikipedia. And I lied before. I do read blogs. It’s just that I mostly read spanking blogs. Late at night. When nobody’s up. Or in my office, when people think I’m focused on some new research assignment.’

But this was the kind of thing I ought to have been telling Anthony. Here he was, giving me the opportunity to experience a fantasy that I’d only … well, fantasised about, and I’d fled like a frightened mouse.

‘Next time, you leave,’ Nora insisted. ‘Case closed.’

‘That’s what I did this time,’ I told her emphatically. ‘Next time, I won’t.’

Next time, if Anthony agreed to give me a chance at a next time, I’d suggest the activities myself.

The band started up again with a punk version of ‘Monster Mash’. Nora, unable to politely keep an Elvis impersonator at bay any longer, asked him if he really wanted a rectal examination right there, in front of God and everyone, and the man scurried away from us with a hurt expression on his face.

In the time it took for Nora to lose the geek, I got control of my voice. Made it say the words that most wanted to escape. Words are my friends. Words can set you free. ‘That’s what I did this time,’ I repeated. ‘I won’t fail myself again.’

As I spoke the words, I saw Byron enter the club, despite the fact that he’d been banned. He was in costume which he probably hoped would allow him to go unnoticed, but I recognised him immediately. Every year that we’ve been together, he’s dressed as a woman on Halloween. This is a way for him to let his alter ego out, a way for him to get in touch with his feminine side. That’s what he’s always claimed. I think he just finds it kinky to put on ladies’ lingerie.

He didn’t look good enough to pass as a woman, but he’d managed to pass by Nora’s bouncers. When she turned and saw him, I felt her stiffen.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Let me.’

‘Are you kidding? I can get Travis to help.’

I shook my head, and then started to walk towards Byron. He was Gwen-less, which backed up what Nora had told me about reading his blog. That I’d been right. Gwen had only really been interested in the excitement of having an illicit liaison.

‘You look amazing,’ he said when he saw me.

‘Yeah? You think?’

‘You look different,’ he said next, ‘not just the outfit. Something else.’

I felt different, but I wasn’t going to tell him why.

‘I knew you were going to be here, and you weren’t taking my phone calls, so, I thought …’

‘What do you want, Byron?’

He shrugged, and in that shrug I saw that he wanted to erase what had happened, without having to say so himself. Everything that had happened. The break-up and the fights. For an instant, I thought about going to one of Nora’s private rooms, of fucking Byron and calling out Anthony’s name at the climax. But he just wasn’t worth it.

‘I want you,’ he said finally, when he saw I wasn’t going to make things any easier for him. ‘Eleanor, I want what we had.’

And as he said the words, I understood something that had eluded me. What we’d had was gone. Or maybe we hadn’t ever really had it.

Nora was glaring at Byron from the bar. She looked as if she would like to eject him without any help from Travis. But I didn’t need her help. All I needed was to shake my head at Byron and turn away. Like he enjoyed saying on his blog: Case Closed.

Chapter Nineteen

Upstairs in the office at Nora’s club, I read the manuscript again. I focused hard on the words – trying not to think of Anthony. Trying only to think of the ancient lovers, dead now for thousands of years. The music throbbed from down below, but I lost myself in the journal.

The pages explained the rest. The pages gave me more history, more romance, than I would have guessed. Marcus continued to make love to Elena. All night long, he made love to her with his fingers, his tongue and his cock, and with the finely crafted handle of the knife he had used to cut away Elena’s clothing. In the privacy of the bedroom, the two took more pleasure from each other than I could have fantasised about, than I could have created in my very active imagination.

After, wrapped up tight in each other’s arms, Marcus said, ‘You will have an important spot in this house. Danae is lucky to have been given the rights to you. Through the years, you will bring much money to the temple, but you will do more than that.’

Elena waited, silent, wondering.

‘You know the power that
hetairai
have over the men in this community. How the words of one woman have caused wars, have ended reigns of power. Danae is too well known to be of much use to us. But as I have infiltrated the ranks of the soldiers, you will infiltrate the bedroom of the captains, you will bed those highest ranking officials. The child of your womb will be our future king.’

Elena realised that her father was wrong. The Oracle was right. If Marcus spoke the truth, and Elena trusted
him implicitly, then Elena would give birth one day to the king of their people. Her child would grow up to rule all. The journal said:

I turned over and wrapped myself in Marcus’ arms. I wanted nothing else but to serve Aphrodite as she and Danae would have me serve. No, I lied. I wanted something else. I wanted to serve Marcus, as well, side by side to give him everything he needed, everything he wanted, every fantasy that played itself out in his mind.

This is what
I
wanted, too. This is what I wanted to do for Anthony.

Marcus said, ‘The party is over tonight. The festivities are finished and all of the guests have left. The only thing that remains is for you to be presented to the rest of the girls.’

‘I met them,’ I said, confused.

‘You met them, yes,’ he agreed, ‘but you were not presented to them. You were brought into the house, rushed into it to prepare for tonight. This morning –’ and he indicated with a look skywards that it was morning, ‘– you will be presented to them as a sister.’

He cut me loose of my bindings, finally, and had me sit on the edge of the bed. While I watched, he called out to the hall, and a young handmaiden came rushing in to help us. Marcus instructed her with his wishes, speaking softly to her, pointing and indicating what it was that she was to do. Without a word, she came to the bed, and she used cosmetics to adorn me, painting my face. I watched with the help of a polished silver mirror. I had been told that I was pretty. All my life, people have spoken of my beauty. But now, with the help of these added powders, the girl transformed me into a woman, a creature who would rival the goddesses with her beauty.

‘Your lips are more luscious than Danae’s,’ Marcus said softly. ‘Look at yourself. Look at your beauty.’

I stared at that other person, the vision in the mirror. I gazed upon her in awe, as mesmerised as Narcissus was by his own captivating reflection. Then I shook my head, not wanting to look any further.

My eyelids were gilded, my lips slicked with colour as dark as the ripest berries. She decorated my hair with a glittery powder, then wove it through with fresh flowers. When she was finished, she dressed me in another transparent toga, and then Marcus led me from the room, down the hallway to the large living area.

No trace of the party remained, except for my newfound sisters, all curled up asleep on the various beds and sofas. At Marcus’ approach, the women awoke, stared up at us, gawked at me.

‘Like Danae,’ Marcus said softly, ‘you have the ability to transform. Only a little preparation and you take on the body and the spirit of the goddess.’

My sisters did not move from their positions, eyes wide, mouths slack. Marcus said, ‘Show respect,’ and they bowed their heads before me. What could I do? I walked among them, touching them lightly, letting them feel my acceptance of the honour they bestowed upon me. And then, moving back into the safety of Marcus’ shadow, I waited for his next command.

BOOK: With or Without You
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ads

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