Looking Inside

“Jimmy seems like a good friend, he’ll understand. Is he straight?” he asked distractedly.

“What?”

“Jimmy, is he straight?”

“Yes,” she replied, looking confused.

“Maybe you should warn him about Alessandra before you leave. She’s going to be a royal bitch when I make an excuse and go. Then to bandage her pride, there’s a fifty-fifty chance she might come on to Jimmy.”

“Jimmy can take care of himself.” She frowned. “Unless you’re trying to tell me she has some horrible communicable disease or something.”

“No, it’s not that. She’s just a handful, that’s all. It doesn’t matter. They’re both adults. What matters is that in ten minutes flat, at”—he checked his watch—“five forty-five, you’re up in that window.”

“Huh?”

He nodded his head once, admiring the rush of color in her cheeks and her flabbergasted expression. “Do what you did that first night again.”

“You . . . you want me to . . . to dance for you again?”

“Hell, yeah,” he muttered, releasing her hair and rubbing her hip and ass. He plucked at her mouth. “Put on a nice show for me, Eleanor.”

“Really?”

He pushed her into him and ground his cock against her lower belly. “Do I seem serious?”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“Then you go out first and make your excuse. Don’t wait for me. Just go.”

“Okay.” He released her and she started to move past him, seeming a little unsteady on her two feet.

“And, Eleanor?”

She looked over her shoulder.

“Two things,” he said tensely. “One, sign a consent form for your doorman, allowing me to come up to your place. Leave your unit number and let him know I’ll be there soon. Don’t lock your front door. Tonight, this isn’t going to end with me standing there like an idiot with my cock in my hand, do you understand? I’m going to punish you for teasing me.”

Her eyes widened. She looked adorable, but he didn’t relent an inch.

“And two”—he pointed down at her feet—“the only things I want you wearing when I get there are those shoes.”

TEN

Eleanor’s heart fluttered erratically in her chest and she was panting by the time she entered her condo and shut the door, remembering not to lock it. She bubbled with nervous excitement. She still couldn’t believe Trey was here, or that he was matter-of-factly insisting they put their plan into play for mixing their kinks right that moment. Despite the unexpected turn of events, she knew precisely what she was going to do for her performance for Trey.

Earlier that year, the museum sponsored a special exhibit on the 1933 Chicago World’s Fair. Eleanor had organized a subunit on glamorous actress and dancer Sally Rand, who had scandalized Chicago with her provocative fan dance at the fair. Sally would dance with two large feather or fur fans, seducing the audience by twirling and gliding them across her seemingly naked body. Eleanor had been responsible for displaying two pairs of Sally’s own beautiful fans along with other artifacts, photos and ephemera, but her exhibit had required some extra decoration. So she’d found a place where she could purchase more fans, and on a whim, had bought two for herself. She’d been seduced by how soft the feathers were, and perhaps by the idea of Sally Rand herself. She admired the woman’s boldness. Even before she’d discovered her penchant for exhibitionism, Eleanor had recognized the potent power Ms. Rand held over the audience as she teased them relentlessly with her peekaboo dance. Of course it’d all been an illusion. Sally hadn’t really been naked behind the fans.

But Eleanor would be.

Trey would hate it. He’d love it too.

The very idea of having his total attention, of working him into a frenzy again sent her blood to racing. He’d said he’d punish her for teasing him. That made her a little anxious, but not enough to dampen her excitement.

Even though he’d said he wanted her in the window in ten minutes, and she only had five remaining, she still got under a hot shower. Tonight, she’d seduce him from a distance, but he’d be up close, eventually. She wanted to be perfect. After her shower, she took her time applying a bergamot and peach body lotion that contained a subtle glitter that sheened her naked body. She put on a robe and went out to the living room to select some music.

She smiled as the first notes of the sexy, bluesy number—“Going Down Slow”—began to play. As always, the right music was like a shot of potent whiskey. It got her in the mood. It made her bolder than she really was. She put the red heels back on, buckling the straps around her ankles, her heart drumming in her ears when she recalled how on fire and intimidating Trey had looked when he’d given her the instructions to be wearing them, and nothing else, when he arrived.

She glanced at the clock, her eyes going wide when she saw it was going on five fifty. She was late for her performance. But that’d only amp up Trey’s anticipation, wouldn’t it?