Page 6 of Exquisite Temptation

Heavy rain beats against the windshield and rattles the roof of the car. I watch the windshield wipers whip back and forth, trying to get rid of the rain splatter. I look at Mama’s hands gripping the steering wheel and moving her head to see better. Suddenly, two bright lights from a car driving towards us. I close my eyes and put my hands over my ears to block the scary sound of screeching brakes and tires skidding on the wet road.

"Mama, I'm scared." My heart beats fast.

"Hold on, baby."

The car spins in circles, before tumbling upside down. My head hits the metal frame, and I scream out in pain. I look at Mama, who lays slumped over the steering wheel. Blood pours down her forehead. I open my mouth to call out to my mama, but I can’t talk.Mama. Wake up. Someone cuts the seat belt and pulls me out of the car.

"Hey, fella. It’s okay. You are safe now."

Help Mama, please. Then everything goes dark.

I shut my eyes and bow my head, letting the hot tears trickle down my face. Grief is like being buried alive. It freezes you, holding you captive and helpless in its icy grip until you take your last breath. Wiping my face with the back of my wrist, I throw one last look at Amelia's headstone and drag myself straight to my car before the floodgates of the heavens open and a torrent of rain comes down on me.

Chapter 4

Heidi

Idropmyheadin my hands, heat stealing into my face. Oh, my God, my eyes, my eyes! The images of my mother’s boudoir shots will be forever burned into my mind. I can’t unsee what I have just seen. Lifting my head, I peek at the photographs of my mother in sexy but tasteful lingerie with killer stilettos, reading and re-reading her caption: "Menopausal women can look and feel sexy, too. Life starts at 50!" Her post has over three hundred thousand likes and ten thousand comments. What the hell is going on? How is my father okay with this? She has been calling every week, begging me to come back home. When she realized it wasn’t working, she started using emotional manipulation, so I stopped answering her calls.

Breathing in and out, I leave my phone and go back to work. Ironically, I have to send boudoir photos to my clients. I read my emails in my draft folder for the last time, checking that I have included the link and password for the correct photo gallery before hitting the send button. I have spent most of the day uploading photographs and transferring them into different collections. Thanks to my amazing clients and social media followers praising my work and spreading the word about my move, I'm now fully booked until spring. If my business continues to grow, I could quit teaching.But you love teaching. It’s your calling, my heart reminds me. In all honesty, I can't remember a time when I didn’t want to become a teacher. When I was six years old, I played "school" at home with my make-believe lists, imaginary friends, and stuffed animals.You don't need to decide now, Heidi.

Rising to my feet, I stretch my aching back muscles and watch the last faint rays of Seattle’s winter sunshine dance across the open water of Lake Washington. Waves of gratitude wash over me, spreading heat in my chest. My initial worries about leaving my comfort zone and having to figure out the new teaching team’s politics nearly forced me to decline the offer and stay in San Diego. I'm so glad I faced my fears. After making coffee, I put on my favorite Spotify playlist. The addictive dark electro beat of Mila Dietrix’s "Hit me Harder"comes on, and I up the volume until it blares through the speakers. Mila’s sultry voice demanding to be touched and hit harder sends pleasurable shivers up and down my spine. Gawd, it’s been ages since I have felt the soft leather tongues of a flogger on my body. Tristan might have been a cheating asshole, but he knew how to use the flogger to take me so high that I could drift amongst the stars, free of worries and expectations.

The soul-crushing pain of his betrayal ebbs and flows, hurting less every day. I had lots of time to reflect on my life and my failed relationship. When you grow up with a father who worshiped the ground your mother walked on, it’s difficult not to believe in true love and happily ever after. But then you grow up, and reality hits you like a ton of bricks when you realize the dating world is full of toddlers parading as grown men. No wonder women across the world end up having imaginary relationships with hot, dirty book boyfriends who have no problem burning the world down or killing anyone who dares to touch you.

The song changes, interrupting my inner rant. I crane my neck in the direction of the wall clock. Shoot, it’s two o’clock. I'm meeting Allie at the mall for retail therapy, before we meet her friend Katie at some swanky bar in town tonight. It’s so good living with my best friend.You still haven’t told her about what happened with Tristan?What kind of friend are you, keeping secrets from your ride or die?My annoying conscience chimes, making my chest tighten uncomfortably.She’s been through a lot already and doesn’t need you to dump your shit on her, my sensible self retorts. I don't know how to tell my friend that I have discovered my inner masochist. It’s not as if I can say: "Hey, babe, I discovered I'm kinky as fuck. I get off when my Dom puts his hands around my throat and calls me dirty names." She would never judge me. Knowing her, she would encourage me to explore my kinky side. Shutting down my computer, I rush to my bedroom to throw on my skinny jeans and sweater.

I glance at Allie as we make our way to the bar.The black dress she bought today molds to her body perfectly, accentuating her full hourglass shape. Mr. Dominant will lose his mind when he sees her tonight.You should have told her, Heidi.The funny thing was this weird sense of familiarity, calm, and safety washed over me when this tall, dark, and brooding Dom came to ask me to give him her number. He exuded power and stability, telling me he is one of the good guys, and tempting me to give him her number. I didn’t want to end up in the doghouse, and I ended up blabbing the name of the bar where we are going tonight. When we came home, she told me about their close encounter in the fetish store and how he drove fast, overtaking her car while she was on her way to pick me up from the airport. The way her face flushed bright red told me she fancies the pants off him, alleviating some of the guilt for not telling her.

Trailing behind Allie, I swing my head from side to side, taking in the circular bar glowing like a mother ship, velvet semi-circular booths, and an array of vibrant indoor plants, creating a stunning and perfect ambiance. She quickens her step, rushing towards the table at the far end of the room. A stunning, tall woman with golden brown skin, dressed in a black chiffon dress with a deep V neck, rises to her feet and widens her blood-red lips into a grin. After exchanging quick hugs and brief introductions, we park ourselves on the plush seats. While we scan the cocktail menu, a young server brings us complimentary nuts and olives. It's a pleasant change from being stuck in a crowded bar where you risk losing your sanity and voice as you try to order your drink.

"The cocktail of the day sounds yummy." I tilt my head in Katie’s direction, my gaze dropping briefly to her oval ruby cuff necklace.

My heart speeds up with excitement. Who would have thought Allie would be friends with a submissive? Judging by the way she stared at Katie’s day collar earlier, she has no clue.

"Two hundred and eighty-two calories?" Allie exclaims, scrunching her nose.

"Girl, I don't care. Black forest gateau is my favorite cake, and we only live once, right?" Katie places her menu on the table, her feline eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Listen to Katie. Come on, you need to let your hair down and enjoy yourself, babe," I add, covering her hand with mine. She bobs her head in agreement.

Thank God!Allie has always been over-responsible, and, most of the time, she finds it hard to let go of her need to control everything. Katie and I hit it off straight away, and as the delicious cocktails flow, the conversation turns to men and dating, forcing me to swallow the lump of guilt lodged in my throat. I scanned the bar earlier, but I couldn’t catch sight of Mr. Dominant.

"My friends with benefits relationship with Dan turned into–" Katie's cell phone pings, interrupting her mid-sentence. As she reads her message, Katie shifts in her seat and strokes the dark ruby gemstone with her index finger. It must be her Dom. Tristan used to send me explicit commands whenever I would go out with friends or when I was at work.

Lifting her head, the lines around her mouth deepen as she grins. "Sorry, girls, it's Dan. I can't get enough of him, and we're already talking about moving in together. I feel giddy with happiness." My chest tightens, knocking the breath out of me, but I ignore it.

"That's amazing," both Allie and I exclaim in unison. I crane my neck in Allie’s direction, mouthing "twinsies," making her chuckle.

"To happily ever after." I raise my glass, clinking it with Katie’s.

"Allie, I know you aren't dating, but how about Simon? He's chasing after you like a lovesick pup." Katie covers her mouth, giggling silently. She glares at us, quirking her lips into a mock smirk. I give her a gleeful wink, even though I know she isn’t interested in him.

"He's an amazing guy, and I know he will make some girl very happy, but, sadly, I don't find him attractive. And now he hates me after blurting out that I have a boyfriend." Averting her gaze, she bites her lip.

Moving closer, Katie pats her hand. "Allie, he doesn't hate you. He knew you weren't interested, but he kept persisting. Rejection stings like a bitch, so give him time to lick his wounds." She cocks her head in my direction curiously. "How about you, Heidi?"

"Erm, I broke up with my boyfriend," I inhale sharply through my nostrils, "just before moving to Seattle. It's all work and no play at the moment. I need time to process the break-up." Allie winds her arm around my shoulder, squeezing it gently. I lower my head, twisting the napkin between my fingers as conflicting emotions war inside me. The worst thing is betrayal never comes from our enemies, but those we trust and love the most.

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