Pleasure and Danger Read Free

have done with staying in his bed all day, exploring his body as he explored mine, I also saw the sense in what he’d said. Anticipation would be high, growing taller by the minute as our alley encounter drew closer. That would mean I’d get an earth-shattering orgasm as opposed to a pleasing mind-blower.
    Showered and dressed in my new white knickers and yesterday’s tarty clothes—sans makeup, hair in disarray—I stood in the town center beside the clock that resembled a grandfather, albeit made of stone instead of shiny mahogany. The hands pointed to eleven and two, and our appointed meeting was destined for eleven-thirty. I had to find something to do to make the minutes tick by faster.
    I drew my jacket fronts together then zipped them up, the wind rather ripe this morning and intent on scaring any lingering cobwebs away. I felt refreshed, invigorated and more than ready to play out my third fantasy. It was like all my birthdays and Christmases had come along at once, each present more spectacular than the last. At this rate I’d have to think up some new scenarios, and tonight would be the perfect opportunity before I drifted off to sleep.
    But would I be in my bed or his?
    Receiving more than one or two glances from passers-by, all staring at me as though I were the filthiest woman on the planet, I smiled back at them with the saucy knowledge that they had no clue what I was about to experience. And what I’d just been thinking about.
    There they were, struggling along with their heavy shopping bags, wearing clean, pressed clothes and proper shoes, and probably smelling of roses. The term ‘Their shit don’t stink!’ came to mind, and I knew that many of these people would turn their noses up at my thoughts. No doubt they’d proclaim me to be a dirty, nasty little whore who lived for nothing but sex when there were other, more important things going on in the world. I wasn’t unaware of what was on the news, just that I preferred to spend my life filling it with goodness—the kind of goodness that had me coming hard and fast.
    Each to their own.
    What a stark contrast we made while I stood there in my slutty outfit—Gabriel had been insistent about that—knowing within half an hour I’d be being getting fucked against a grimy, mildew-ridden wall. What did these women have to look forward to? I hoped for their sakes it was more than going home to put their shopping away then doing the housework. Had any of them tapped into their desires or had they hidden them away? Did they reserve sex for high days and holidays?
    I couldn’t imagine a life like that, not now that I’d found Gabriel.
    I moved away from the clock and headed toward the jewelry shop. I wasn’t going there to browse the rings—I didn’t want marriage or anything like that—not yet anyway—but I’d grown fond of those bracelets that were all the rage, the ones with tiny trinkets hanging off them. Only I didn’t think the kind of trinkets I’d want were readily available. A whip, a flogger, Gabriel’s mean little stick, a mini cage and a depiction of a filthy alley. And if they were, wouldn’t that just set up a whole new level of conversation at work beside the coffeemaker in the kitchen?
    “What on earth is that , Isabella?” That would be Patty, the elderly receptionist.
    “What?” That would be me, feigning nonchalance while knowing exactly what had been referred to—and with horror, I’d bet.
    “Is that a…a whip on there?” And that would be Bernice, the middle-aged accountant who was shocked by a door closing more loudly than usual, let alone seeing a silver whip dangling from a bracelet. She’d have her hand slapped to her chest, her mouth hanging open and a violent red flush to her cheeks.
    I smiled at the idea of freaking my work colleagues out then explaining that I liked a goodly dose of pain mixed in with my pleasure. That I’d met a man who seemed to want everything I did and knew how to administer it, how