I’d expected the calls to come when I was home—if they came at all.
But I wasn’t in the mood to argue. Not if Cole was giving my idea a chance.
And more than that, I was already turned on. Just the sound of his voice—just the thought that he wanted me, that he was thinking about touching me and fucking me—good god, I was wet already and my nipples were tight and hard and pressing almost painfully against the lace of my bra.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“In my car. Behind a grocery store. A long way from where any other cars are parked.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No?”
“You’re in a bedroom. The walls are painted red. There’s a bed in the center of the room with an upholstered headboard and a white satin duvet. Can you see the room?”
“Yes. Is it your room?”
“No,” he said. “But right now it’s ours. Tell me what else is in the room.”
“Um, candles,” I said. “There’s no light, but there are candles mounted in sconces on the walls. Some are simply in glass jars along the floor. The room is dim, and seems to flicker with the flames.”
“I see it,” he said. “And something else, too. Two things. Do you know what they are?”
I licked my lips. “Tell me.”
“A trunk. Old-fashioned. Leather. You walk to it and open it.”
“What do I see?” I asked, imagining the interior of the trunk.
“Toys,” he said simply, in the kind of tone that brought to mind all sorts of erotic fantasies. “It’s the one on top I’m interested in. Do you see it? There’s a handle, almost like a stick wrapped in black leather. There are flails attached. Loose, thin strips of soft leather. Over a dozen of them.”
“It’s a flogger,” I said, and heard the catch of excitement and fascination in my voice.
“Very good.”
“I told you I’m not innocent,” I said huskily.
“Have you ever used one?”
“No.”
“Good,” he said. “I want to be your first.”
“Cole—” I stopped, unsure what I’d intended to say.
“Yes?”
“I—what else is in the room?”
“Just one other thing. A St. Andrew’s cross. Do you know what that is?”
“Not really,” I admitted.
“Picture an X made out of smooth wooden beams. It’s attached to a frame, and that frame is attached to the wall. Your torso rests where the beams cross. Your ankles and wrists at the top and the bottom. Bound, Catalina. You understand that, right?”
I swallowed, then nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see me.
“Bound and naked and unable to move. To do anything but feel. I want you to go there, Kat. Go there, take your clothes off, and position yourself on the cross.”