Page 32 of A Lesson In Beginning

The feel of his hand covering mine shocked me, my eyes lifting to find his gaze, even though I wanted nothing more than to run away from the pity I knew I would find in those startlingly beautiful blue depths. But it was not pity that I found, but understanding. Simple, honest understanding that took my breath away with how natural it felt from him.

“That’s completely understandable. Has anyone really taken the time to talk to you about BDSM? Especially after your first visit?” Concern etched his face. I found myself drawn to him even more, his touch sending those now-familiar tingles sprinting just beneath the surface of my skin.

“I’ve picked up on a few things here and there, especially after working here. Trixie doesn’t seem to have much modesty or control when she’s speaking.” I flushed slightly in embarrassment. I did not like feeling ignorant.

“This world is fully customizable. By that, I mean that everyone has their own limits, boundaries, things they aren’t into, and things they are. It’s one of the largest draws to this kind of lifestyle. It can be whatever you want it to be, as long as everyone agrees and is a willing, consenting participant. But it’s expected for everyone to have things they aren’t okay with, things they don’t wish to see.”

“Do you have things you don’t wish to see?” I silently cursed myself for my forward questioning, wincing in inward consternation. I could not believe I had just asked that. What was wrong with me?

“I do. Several things, in fact.” His easy smile calmed my growing nerves, only slightly. The way his hand stayed atop my own made it impossible for those tingling sensations to truly cease.

“I’m realizing there is an entire side of you I don’t know about.”

“Honestly, there are many things you don’t know about me.” He chuckled lightly, further dispelling the awkward tension that seemed to be ever present between us.

“I’d like to know more.”

Goodness gracious, Lord Almighty! I cursed myself for the millionth time, my own audacity growing by the minute. Trixie was obviously rubbing off on me.

“There is a scene taking place tonight that I’d like to watch. I wondered if you’d join me. I promise you it is not a service scene, and will not trigger that response for you, at least not for the reasons you’ve told me. And if you feel uncomfortable at any point, I promise to whisk you away back to the rooftop, and even find fill-ins for you in the kitchen while you recover. I pinky-promise.” That boyish smirk appeared on his face as his hand left mine, reaching out to me with his pinky finger raised in the air. There was a charismatic charm to him that pulled me in like a magnet.

I reached my hand out, locking pinkies with him and returning that smirk with a nod.

“Alright then. Lead the way.”

CHAPTER 11

Walking out onto the main floor of The Temple had a decidedly different feel than it had the first night I had visited. Instead of the swarms of people who had made my mind spin with their outfits, or lack thereof, and various sexual acts on lewd and violent display, the room was almost calm and quiet. It almost took me aback with the stark contrast.

“Has The Temple ever been this slow?” I leaned in towards Joel’s tall frame, whispering the words, and realizing I still had to be somewhat loud in order to be heard over the music. Even the music had changed. Gone was the pounding, headache-inducing drumming and almost imperceptible melodic lines, instead replaced with calmer, slightly quieter music that was much more palatable for one’s ears.

“That’s part of why I thought it might be a good night to do this. They have rented the space out to a private party, so there’s no general crowd tonight.” He winked at me, leading me towards the center stage where everyone seemed to gravitate.

He took my hand unceremoniously, gripping it tightly as his other arm wrapped around me. I had half a mind to protest; his forward display and touch foreign to me, but soon realized that he was simply leading me through the crowd. He was protecting me. We arrived at the front of the small gathered crowd just in time to see a man walk a woman onto the stage.

She was beautiful, but not in the way I had seen many of the people who frequented the establishment. There was nothing showy or flamboyant, either in her appearance or in her dress. Her hair hung long and straight down her back, a simple black robe covering her form. I knew she was nude beneath it, but that was something I had seen plenty of already here at The Temple. Just looking to my left and to my right would assault my eyes with various states of nudity and undress.

The tall, bulky looking man reminded me much of Malachi Temple in his overly-muscled way as he stood behind her, near a table placed in the center of the stage. It was padded and simple, with no torture devices I could see from where I stood, though I could not be sure due to my short stature. It was difficult to see over the table.

He helped her slip the robe from her shoulders, leaning down to kiss the curve of her bare shoulder as the fabric fell away from her body and he set it aside on a secondary table that sat further back on the stage, one I hadn’t noticed before. I tensed at the thought of what torture devices might lie on that very table behind, but the touch of Joel’s hand against the small of my back calmed my nerves, though his familiarity should have been slightly unnerving. As his thumb ran back and forth, I settled into the feeling, realizing that instead of unnerving, the touch sent butterflies fluttering through my belly.

“What is he going to do to her?” I leaned in close as I spoke, not wanting the other gathered patrons to hear my nervous inquisition.

“There is nothing violent in this scene. I can promise you that.” I found myself stepping closer to him as the scene began, and a hush fell over the crowd. The man helped the woman to lie back on the table. That’s when I noticed the leather restraints attached at various points. From the bottom of the table, he pulled thick leather straps, positioning them across her body and tightening them down as she gasped and then groaned.

My spine grew rigid, the muscles of my shoulders tensing, only to be soothed by the touch of Joel’s hand on my back yet again.

“Joel! Good to see you, man!” A man behind me leaned in, whispering loudly to Joel. I jumped in surprise at his proximity, but turned along with Joel to see a shorter man smiling widely at my companion. Joel turned from me, giving the shorter, dark man a hug that spoke of a deep friendship. His tawny skin was a stark contrast to the deep blue of his eyes, his dark black hair only adding to his contrasting features. There was something unusual about his features, something I had never seen before.

“Enzo, this is Adah. Adah, this is my friend, Enzo.” Joel introduced us, and the man gave me an overly dramatized bow, leaning over as he took my hand and pretended to kiss the back of it in an overly chivalrous way.

“It is a pleasure and a privilege to make the acquaintance of such a beautiful rose.”

“Scurry back to the den of depravity you came from, Enzo.” Joel laughed, pushing his friend back as I blushed at his forwardness. Men in the outside world, especially those who frequented such establishments, were very liberal with their affections. “Sorry about him. Enzo is a Casanova, and flirtatious to a fault.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with such dark features, and such brilliantly blue eyes.” I blushed at my impropriety, noticing and commenting on a man’s appearance.

“Enzo’s mother was of Slavic descent, and his father was from Egypt. The ladies certainly enjoy his looks, though not as much as I think Enzo enjoys the attention his looks afford him.” Joel paused for a moment. I could feel his gaze on me, even as my eyes fixated back on the stage where the man was finishing restraining the woman. “Are you interested?”

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