S.E.C.R.E.T. Shared (Secret 2)

I nodded, took a deep breath and gave her my most confident smile. I was about to watch Mark Drury’s first training session with Angela Rejean. He’d passed all the tests, submitted to two prior sessions and aced his interviews. Now, before engaging in a fantasy with Dauphine, he had to pass final muster with Angela.

“It can be emotional to watch former lovers, Cassie. It takes fortitude.”

“I’m fine,” I said, as much for myself as for her. “He’s for S.E.C.R.E.T., for Dauphine. Not for me.”

“Good.”

“Does he know I’m watching?”

“No. He knows someone from S.E.C.R.E.T. is watching, but we never say who. He was quite excited.”

“Does Angela know she’s being watched?”

She gave me a wry smile.

“Cassie, honey, this is her thing. All right then. Enjoy yourself. But study carefully too. We have to evaluate him—look for ways he can improve, to enliven a woman’s fantasy experience. He has to find pleasure in pleasing. And he needs to learn how to make a woman feel completely desired, which is, without a doubt, the greatest aphrodisiac. I’ll funnel any advice to him. Patience keeps coming up as an issue for him. Good luck,” she said with a smile, adding, “you’ve come a long way, Cassie. Call me later. I’ll let you know how it goes with Dauphine.”

“Thank you. Truly. For everything,” I said. “And I hope Dauphine stays. There’s still just so much.”

“I’ll tell her just that.”

She shut off the light and left, closing the door behind her. I was alone in my little dark room, unsure of what to do. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, waiting for the session to begin on the other side of the one-way glass.

A few moments later, Angela emerged from an ivory door flush with the wall in the Emperor’s Room. Her normally straightened hair was arranged in a relaxed, sassy Afro, and she was wearing a white, wraparound dress, cut low, the material thin, almost translucent, her dark nipples alert. She wore six-inch pumps that set off her brown muscled calves to perfection. She ignored the glass, which would look like a mirror on her side of the room. She walked over to the marble mantel of the fireplace and leaned on it provocatively. There was a lot you could envy about Angela, but her calm, cool demeanor was at the top of my list just then.

From a door to the left, off the same hallway I had just navigated with Matilda, Mark slowly emerged, wearing a grin that only grew bigger when he took in his next “trainer.” He looked so cute and clean in his chambray shirt tucked into baggy cords, his hair damp. I could almost smell his green apple shampoo.

“Holy mother of mercy,” he muttered, at which point I realized I’d not only be seeing everything, but hearing everything through speakers.

“Okay, first thing: don’t smile at me so much,” Angela said to him. “You want our girl to feel you’re happy to see her, but enthuse less, smolder more.”

“Got it,” he said, literally wiping the smile off his face with a sweep of his hand.

I laughed. I mean, it was funny—he was funny. But Angela was not amused.

“Take a seat.”

Mark fell into the tufted chair like an obedient boy, which sent Angela’s fist to her hip. Oh, please don’t blow this, I thought. If you blow this, no Jesse for me.

“Yes, ma’am,” he added.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” Angela scolded. “That is not going to turn any woman on.”

“Sorry.”

He examined the room, his eyes stopping on the mirror for a second. Angela followed his gaze. They were both looking directly at me. No! I sank in the chair, my hand to my throat, which was now closing in some kind of terror-induced anaphylactic shock. Angela snapped her fingers to bring his attention back to her. Whew. They can’t see you! They cannot see you, Cassie! I reminded myself. Exhale.

She strutted up to him, stood close enough to almost touch his knees with hers.

“Remember, we only pair you with women who want what you want, who crave what you crave, who want to do what you want to do, or who want to try what you want to try.”

He put one hand to the muscles in his neck to give himself a stretchy massage. Wow, he was nervous too.

“So, Mark … how shall we play today?”

How shall we play today? That was sexy. I tucked that phrase away. He looked down at her white pumps, regarding them thoughtfully. I followed his eyes as they made their slow way up her long legs.

“I’ll play however you want to play.”