Page 25 of The Facilitator: Part 2
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Ihad showeredand was sitting at the dressing table blow-drying my hair. I ran the brush through until it shined. I then tied it in a tight bun at the back of my head. Hanging on the back of the door was a suit carrier; it had arrived earlier in the day with a box I wasn’t to open until it was time to dress. I’d been itching to peek inside, but as Mackenzie would constantly tell me, anticipation enhanced theenjoyment.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed in his shirt and trousers, tying his shoelaces and watching me as I applied my makeup. I’d catch his stare and the smile he gave in return had my stomach clenching. Like before, when we’d spent time in one of the playrooms in the club, he slowly started to change. He was quieter, more domineering in his presence, as if he was taller and broader. I knew that was a physical impossibility but, to me, it was as if he grew in stature. When he was ready, he stood and walked to the unopened box. It sat on a chair in the corner. He picked it up and brought it back to the bed, and I watched in the mirror as he lifted the lid. The first item he pulled out was a pair of dark blue lace panties with ribbon that criss-crossed the sides. I turned on my stool to face him. He walked towards me, and pulled at the towel around my body, I rose slightly so he could remove it. He knelt at my feet and lifting one foot and then the other; he slid the delicate lace up my shins. I stood, placing one hand on his shoulder as he raised the material to its rightful place. He kept his hands on my legs and slowly dragged them down my skin. Just his touch had my coreclenching.
He stood and walked back to the bed, collecting the box. That time he placed it on the dressing table. He pulled from the tissue paper a pair of midnight blue satin shoes. I caught a glimpse of the Gucci logo as he crouched again to place them on my feet. Of course, they were a perfect fit. I opened my mouth tospeak.
“Shush,” hewhispered.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and encouraged me to turn to the full-length mirror leaning against one wall. He stood behind but reached around to place the most amazing diamond-encrusted choker around my throat. It was tight enough for me to know it was there, but loose enough to breathe freely. I smiled at his reflection and raised my hand to run my fingers over the stones. I wasn’t sure they were all genuine diamonds, of course; Swarovski crystals were aspretty.
“Yes, they’re real,” he said, as if reading mymind.
Three strands of brilliant cut diamonds glinted as the overhead lights caught their surface. A rainbow of colour reflected back in themirror.
“I love it,” I whispered, not having the words to articulate just howmuch.
He ran his fingers down my sides, and I shivered at his touch. “You are so beautiful,Lauren.”
I wasn’t sure the small pouch of a stomach or the stretch marks on my thighs were. I had scars from various surgeries over the years dotted over my skin, but I loved that what he saw was beautiful to him. He kissed the side of my neck, ran his tongue down to my shoulder where he kissed mesoftly.
“No perfume, I like to taste your skin,” he said. He turned and walked to thedoor.
As he unzipped the suit carrier, I caught a glimpse of the midnight blue silk dress. I knew the reason for the silk and I smiled, my heart rate increased a little. He tapped on my arms and I raised them. He slid the material over my head, and I threaded my arms through the spaghetti straps. The dress slithered down my body, ending mid-calf, and it fit like a glove. I ran my hands down my sides to smooth the material. I stared at my erect nipples, very much onshow.
“That colour suits you,” hesaid.
“Where did you buy it?” I asked, staring at my ownreflection.
“There’s a boutique near the coffee shop that opened last year. I like their clothes. I gave them your dress size and they make or alter what Ichoose.”
“I like that you chose this forme.”
A little while ago, Mackenzie had chosen a red dress with matching shoes for my firstrealexperience at the club. That dress was hanging in my closet, and although I knew it was not a dress I’d wear on a dinner date, I was itching to wear it again. There was something sensual about the material; it was a cross between a dress and a luxurious nightgown. The blue, though, highlighted the paleness of my skin. I loved it, maybe more so than the red. I turned to face him and placed my hands either side of hisface.
“Thank you,” I said. I kissed his lipsgently.
He took my hand and led me to the front door. Instead of one of the two Aston Martins he owned, a black Bentley was parked on the drive. A man in a suit and hat held open the rear door. Mackenzie helped me to lower into the seat. I didn’t have a handbag, knowing there was nothing I’d need to take with me. I pulled across my seat belt, conscious not to crease my dress, as Mackenzie climbed in the other side. He held my hand as we drove through the electric gates and into thetraffic.
We didn’t speak much throughout the journey, my mind was in a whirl, and I appreciated the quiet classical music that played throughout the car’s stereo system. I felt my skin pimple into goose bumps as we turned into the tree-lined drive towards the Victorian mansion. The front door was opened and there stood the harsh outline of Veronica. She wore a black suit, a white shirt with a black tie,funeral attireI thought. Her hair was pulled tight to a high ponytail that fell to her waist. Her angular features only softened when she smiled as we exited thecar.
“Lauren, Mackenzie,” she said, as she walked towards us with her arms outstretched. She kissed, first both my cheeks, and then Mackenzie’s before escorting us back into the vast and opulenthallway.
“It's good to see you again,” I said, with just a little embarrassment at the memory. We had both been naked, if I rememberedwell.
“And you. I’m thrilled to learn you areofficiallya couple, and you’ll be pleased to note, Lauren, I had our brochure reprinted with your very apt tagline.”
I remembered talking about the brochure when we’d had a tour, I couldn’t remember exactly what I’d said,though.
Veronica held out her arm and we filed past and into the bar. A glass of whiskey and a glass of red wine were placed on the wooden counter waiting for us. The room already had other occupants. I smiled at one or two but mostly avoided eyecontact.
“Slow down,” I heard. Mackenzie placed his hand on my arm. Ichuckled.
“I have this vision of walking around the supermarket in my jeans with a dirty top, scruffy hair, and bumping into one of those women,” I said, as I slid onto a barstool.
“What are you most anxious about? The fact they see you in jeans and a dirty top, or that you know their little secret?” he asked with achuckle.
“Oh, you know what I mean.” I picked up my glass and thanked Gunther for having our drinksready.
