Page 25 of Ends of Being

It was actually getting quite late on Friday when I realized I had a work function that evening. And the only reason I remembered was because my dress was delivered. Luckily, it was delivered early enough that I wasn’t surprised when the makeup and hair people showed up to take care of business. I’m not a hair and makeup kind of girl, that shit has to get hired out if I don’t want to look like a complete clown.

Tony was a little taken aback when it all came around. I had to let him know that this time, he was not going to win because I had to go, and if he didn’t like it, he could hire himself a tux and tagalong.

It was quite comical how insulted he was that I’d think he’d have to rent a tuxedo. Apparently, he has a closet full of fancy wear at his disposal. I guess I should’ve known better considering how incredibly debonair he is, but just to be a complete show-off, he had a brand-new tuxedo delivered to my door in record time.

And here we are, sitting in my bedroom, getting pretty for the fancy party. Tony is looking exceedingly dapper in his midnight-blue tux. At first, I thought it was black, but upon further inspection, it is the darkest blue I’ve ever seen. The material is so soft that I can’t stop touching his arm.

“For fuck’s sake, Nettie. Stop putting your greasy fingers on my sleeve.” He yanks his arm away from my grasp and moves out of my reach.

“But it’s so soft,” I whine. “I want to wear it.”

He gives me a disgusted look, shaking his head as he asks, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I laugh, and the woman painting on my fancy face tsks me to sit still. So, I face forward, keeping my face as still as I can as I whisper, “So many things, right?”

He smiles, “Somany things.”

Okay, so we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well in the time we’ve been living together. Or at least, well enough for him to have dubbed me with a new nickname and for us to have acquired an inside joke or two. I can’t tell if Tony is mostly humoring me, but I find it hard to believe anyone would be able to put on this good of an act for this length of time if they weren’t at least having a little genuine fun.

We’re still joking around in the car on the way to the event, laughing as we get out of the car in front of the high-end midtown hotel where the event is being held. It’s quite busy already, and there are fancy-pants people milling around everywhere.

I’m wearing a short strapless number, also in a midnight blue that’s almost as dark as the suit Tony is wearing but for the shimmery lace overlay. It’s a short A-line because I don’t like to be boxed in. The corset-style top keeps everything where it’s supposed to be while accentuating all of my important bits. I chose a flat sandal in silver that wraps up my calves just to make it a little classier. I may never wear heels again after all the drama because fuck me if I ever get lost in the woods wearing stilettos.

This work event I’m being forced to attend is some frilly gala being put on by the supposedly influential board members of the company Darius and I work for. Normally, I wouldn’t attend, even if they tried to make it mandatory, but since this is a charity gala, I always attempt to at least make an appearance, even if I don’t stay all night.

It was fun getting ready with Tony, and having someone drive us to the venue was a luxury I don’t typically spring for, never mind the professional hair and makeup and extravagant, fancy dress. The fact that I’m having a good time should probably be a huge red flag for me, but I’m not known for listening to red flags anyway, so here we are.

Tony says we need to make a stop regarding security before heading into the main event and indicates I should follow him down a separate hallway away from the ballroom. We walk down the hallway until we reach a lone door. He reaches over and opens it, motioning for me to go in ahead of him into what appears to be a utility closet.

But then, instead of following behind me, he pushes me forward, hustling me up against the counter, facedown. I start to scream, but then I feel the familiar smoothness of a ball gag being shoved between my teeth, and he mutters near my ear, “Nothing personal, Nettie. You know I don’t make the rules.”

He makes quick work of securing my arms behind my back, then slips a blindfold over my eyes. I feel something pressing against my ears, then the soft whoosh of white noise floods my eardrums as I’m thrown headfirst into the void of pitch-black silence.

And, once again,what the actual fuck?

Chapter Eleven

Dare

Justasbefore,Ihad every intention of waiting.

I was going to give her some space to come to terms with the events of the past week, and I’d planned on giving her adequate time to work through what she thinks she might have found in my house.

Yet, here I am. Giving her neither space nor time like the raging asshole I am.

And I can’t even bring myself to feel one iota of guilt or regret for it.

Tony did try to talk me out of it briefly, and I did listen to his weak argument and even considered what he was trying to tell me. But at the end of it, I decided I wanted to do what I wanted to do and to fucking hell with everyone else. I was tired of putting off the inevitable, and I’ll be damned if I would let another day go by without being near her.

So, Tony agreed to lead her into my trap and was considerate enough to truss her up for me quite nicely. The white-noise headphones are a nice touch, and I’m sure she’s seething behind the blindfold and the gag, completely unable to do anything at all to vent her fury.

I can’t help but chuckle to myself as I walk closer to her. She tilts her head a bit, almost as if she can sense me near her, and she makes a garbled growl from behind the gag. She pulls on the restraints around her wrists and ankles, and for a moment, I wonder if she’ll be able to slip out of them. But they hold, and she relaxes against the wall.

Tony did an excellent job of putting her on display for me. I assumed he would just tie her up and secure her to a chair, but he went the full-on professional route and left her spread eagle against the far wall. The sparkly strapless dress adds to the delectable package. It’s a short dark blue number, and even though it is on the cropped side, it still has a slit up one leg, almost like the skirt was supposed to wrap around, but they ran out of fabric. When she shifts around, I can make out the top of her thigh-high stockings, and I lick my lips in appreciation.

I stop directly in front of her, relishing the vision she makes with her shiny red lips stretched around the ball gag, her chest heaving from exertion. There’s a slight sheen on her skin, and I have to force myself not to reach out and stroke her collarbone.

I finally move closer, grasping the headphones and gently removing them from her ears. I toss the headphones onto the counter, then step as close to her as I can without actually pressing my body against her. My breath fanning her ear as I say, “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but I want to reassure you that you’re still in charge here.”

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