He paused before he closed the gates. “You in the cage, alone. How beautiful you must have looked, like an exotic bird.” His eyes burned with his intensity. “I’m sorry I did not catch sight of you.”
I could only stare at him, startled as I was by his comment. He really did think of this as a beautiful cage, and I was in it. The slow metal clanking sound as he hauled the gates together seemed to catch my very nerve endings, stringing them out with tension.
He took his time, controlling the complicated contraption, as ever. When the doors were secured he put his hand to the fifth floor button and pressed it. Then he rested back against the metal struts and folded his arms loosely across his chest. He looked at me, watchful as ever, if not more so.
He hadn’t pressed the button for the fourth floor, my floor. Had he forgotten, or had he left me to do it on purpose, so that I’d have to reach over to his side of the space? He didn’t seem the sort of person to forget, but maybe he had something else on his mind? My heart raced.
The cable mechanism whirred and after the longest moment, jolted into action. The elevator began its slow ascent. Still he didn’t press the button. The only one lit up was for his floor. If he’d just forgotten, I’d look a twit when we shot past my floor.
The tension escalated.
“Oh,” I said, as if I’d just remembered. I reached over, but before I could press the button his hand covered it, stopping me.
“I thought you might like to come up to my apartment, share a bottle of wine and listen to some of the music you liked.” He kept his hand over the button. The look in his eyes was so suggestive that there was no mistaking his intention. This wasn’t just a casual neighborly invite.
So much for asking for his advice about what to do with my spare time. He’d derailed me, but onto a much faster track. My hand dropped to my side. I nodded. “I’d like that.”
The way he had taken charge aroused me immensely.
We rode the rest of the way in silence. That prowling aura surrounded him again. Expectation built steadily inside me.
“Yours is the only apartment up here?” I said as we stepped onto the landing. There was only one door. It bore no number or name, unlike all the others in the block.
“Yes. The building belonged to my grandmother and when I inherited it I added this space, to make the most of the view, and the light.”
As soon as he unlocked the door I saw what he meant. Despite the fact we were in a long hallway, a glass wall at the far end filled the space with amber light as the sun lowered over the city skyline.
“Come in, please.”
I hadn’t realized that I’d hesitated by the door, but I had. Nerves gathered in my belly. I’d stepped into his cage, and now I was going into his lair. I wanted to do it, but fear of the unknown had me in its grip.
When he led me into the lounge I found myself mesmerized by the massive space, and the view. Once again, tinted ceiling-to-floor glass gave way to a superb view across the rooftops of the city. Stepping through the room—which was furnished with black lacquered cabinets and low leather sofas—I put my laptop case and shoulder bag down and gazed out at the sight.
It was only when I heard the chink of glasses in the background I realized that he’d been busy. I heard wine sloshing into glasses, and then he switched on the stereo. Fusion music filtered up all around me, orchestral but with a samba beat. I turned back to him, ready to comment on the amazing view, but my words slipped away into nothing as I caught sight of the massive framed photographic print on the wall.
“Wow.” My eyebrows lifted. Frozen to the spot, I stared at the blatantly sexual image. It depicted a naked woman, starkly lit so that her body faded into darkness on one side. She was tethered by rope from above. The rope twined around her wrists, then back and forth across her torso, waist and hips. The way the rope was arranged seemed to emphasize her bared breasts and shaved pussy. She stared out of the image with fiery, accusing eyes. Thick, blunt-cut, bleached hair gave her a punky look Armand watched on, as if waiting for me to say something. He’d removed his jacket. “Shibari, do you know it?”
I shook my head.
“It is the art of sensual rope work. Does it offend you?”
There was humor in his eyes.
He knew I wasn’t offended. He knew exactly what I was. Horny, and getting hornier by the moment. It was as if he’d led me in here and stood me in front of this picture to get a reaction out of me, and he certainly had. Between my thighs I was hot and damp, my body bristling with uncertainty and expectation. I thought we were going to sip wine, chat and listen to the music, some kind of slow lead in. Instead I felt confronted—raw and edgy because I’d been thrust into a situation that both aroused and unnerved me.
When I didn’t speak, he stepped closer to me. He put his finger under my chin and lifted my face, staring into my eyes as if examining my soul.
I swallowed, willing myself to act appropriately. “Is it your girlfriend?”
Was it an impertinent question? Maybe, but I didn’t think so until it was out. I’d exposed my concern about territory and what was going on here.
“I like your directness, Jennie,” he replied.
My directness was more blundering than intentional, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
“It’s a friend,” he continued. “We were lovers for a while, not anymore. She moved to the States. We shared the same interests, as you see.” His gaze flickered to the image and back to me.
That was to the point. His interests included rope, and cages. I forced myself to look at the image again. Armand bound and displayed her that way. That much was obvious.