‘OK. Let’s do this. It’s not as if things can get any worse … oh, God. Can they, though?’
‘Let’s go up and get changed,’ I whispered.
Joss had a regular BDSM submissive outfit wardrobe now, culled mainly from eBay, but all of it was in my size. I riffled through it, looking for something that wasn’t too revealing. I settled on a glossy black rubber sheath dress. It left acres of thigh and cleavage exposed but covered the essentials. One couldn’t wear underwear with it, but everything else in the wardrobe pretty much was underwear, so it seemed the least of the available evils.
‘You’ll never get that on without talcum powder,’ Joss remarked, pulling on his own trusty leather trousers.
I went into the bathroom, breathing in its damp musty air and feeling it fur the back of my throat. It must have been mouldy as hell in there. If things worked out, perhaps it could be dealt with … But I banned myself from harbouring hopes. There were no guarantees. Nothing meant anything. This had to be played by ear.
Even with the talc, donning the rubber dress was a struggle. Once it was on, I enjoyed the feeling of being held in tight and kept in place. It was so thin that my nipples showed through, and so figure-hugging that the contours of my pubic triangle and the cleft of my bottom could be clearly traced. But it was the least obscene option and I had to stick with it.
I put my hair into a tight bun and washed off my wedding make-up, replacing it with something infinitely sluttier. Wet red lips and cat’s eyes stared back from the grubby mirror. Did I look like him? Perhaps, a little.
I returned to the bedroom and Joss, fussing with belt buckles, looked up and gave a low whistle.
‘If I wasn’t so bloody nervous I’d have you up against the wall here and now,’ he said.
This was a good sign. Joss’s libido was still in fine fettle. It made me think everything might be all right.
‘I want to know what rubber and leather feel like against each other,’ I said, crossing the room towards him, but he hopped back, holding up a hand.
‘I’m not taking that risk. I’m not handing you over to your father smelling of red-hot sex, thanks. Let’s get the family bonding over with first. Once we’re back here, though, all bets are off.’
‘Like my knickers,’ I said.
He doubled over and moaned, ‘Shut uuuuup.’
I took pity on him and sat down on the bed.
‘Sorry. That was naughty of me.’
‘Yes, it was. And don’t think you’ll get away with it either.’
He finished with the belts and something about the way he pulled them tight gave me the distinct idea I might get to feel them on my bottom before the night was done.
The thought made my insides shiver with pleasurable fear. It was a lot better than the plain fearful fear I was feeling about meeting Voronov.
Joss, in his black silk shirt, tight leather jeans and boots shiny enough to see your reflection in was as mouth-watering as I’d ever seen him.
He went to the dresser and ran a comb through his hair with some gel, slicking it back, giving him a louche and disreputable look that made him even sexier somehow.
‘I wouldn’t care if it all came crashing down,’ I said, watching at him pouting at himself in the mirror. ‘As long as I was with you.’
He swivelled on his heel, looking for a minute as if he thought I was lying, his expression watchful and sharp.
‘Do you mean that?’
‘I absolutely mean it.’
He came to sit beside me, threading his fingers in mine.
‘I feel the same,’ he said. ‘I was thinking about it before you came tonight. What would I say if Voronov offered me the leasehold back, in return for you. I’d give him the house, lock, stock and barrel rather than let him … Not that it’s an option now, of course. But all the same. I would.’
‘It’s all that matters,’ I said. ‘You and me.’
‘“She’s all states, and all princes, I;/Nothing else is./Princes do but play us; compared to this,/All honour’s mimic, all wealth alchemy.”’
The clock showed five to ten.