“Ask permission,” I remember. “And obey.”
He waits as I finish my water. When I’m done, he takes the glass and my textbook. Without the latter, I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I stuff them into my jean pockets.
Turning to face me, Tony leans against the table and crosses his arms. “Strip. Slowly.”
My mouth turns dry. I liked it better when he undressed me. Standing here on my own, I feel like I’m on display.
“Now, Virginia.”
I like the sound of my name with his accent. I remind myself that I wanted this.
Complying, I start to unbutton my sweater. I’m sure his gaze misses nothing. I peel off the sweater and hesitate at my plain V-neck tee. Okay, I was completely naked before him just a few hours before. I shouldn’t be this uneasy.
But we’re in a strange place, and there’s a curtain instead of a real door guarding our privacy. Anyone can walk in on us at any minute. And it’s one thing to be undressed by him while I’m half distracted by his caresses. Standing in the middle of the room while he watches has a totally different feel to it. I’m the center of attention. There’s no other distraction. And I’m way too cognizant of his stare.
“The shirt,” he prompts.
After taking a fortifying breath, I whip it off. Okay, this isn’t too bad. And as much as his stare unnerves me, it also excites me.
“Jeans next,” he directs.
I slip off my shoes, undo the button of my jeans and slowly pull down the zipper. At least I have on my nicest underwear and bra. They’re burgundy colored with a little bit of ivory lace. I slide the jeans down my legs. I take off my socks just because it gives me something to do, something other than notice how his gaze traverses every inch of me.
“Turn around,” he tells me, circling his finger.
Standing in just my bra and underwear, I feel the cool air on my skin while my body burns beneath his stare. My cheeks grow hot as I do a 360.
“Slower.”
I turn around again. I’ve never been on display like this before. Growing up, I preferred being in the chorus over solos. I didn’t take drama or dance or anything that involved performing in front of others. I did well enough in PE, but I didn’t participate in extracurricular sports. And I have certainly never undressed in front of a man and allowed him to gawk at me.
What have I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The vibe here is definitely different than what I was getting back at the Drescott.
Judging by the rise and fall of his chest, his breath is a little uneven. I'm having an effect on him.
"Play with yourself."
His words introduce a new level of awkwardness. As if I wasn't self-conscious enough already, now I've got to put on a show for him? Where do I begin? What should I do?
I rub an arm. I rub the other arm, moving my hand from my wrist toward my shoulder. It's probably as sexy as watching your grandmother knit. I'm guessing he thinks so, too, because he starts to direct me.
"Caress your n
eck."
I put my hand to the back of my neck and give myself a little massage, trying to relax myself. I hear a scream in the background. It's probably the woman who’s shackled to the floor. I wonder if there are other couples around.
"Now your shoulders."
I wrap myself in an embrace, keeping my eyes averted from him.
"Caress your tits."
I drop my hands to cup my breasts.