Chapter 4: Home Sweet Home
I didn't say a word as I left the office, my emotions a complete jumble that I didn't trust myself to make polite conversation. I slid into the buttery leather seat of my car and revved the engine. I slid my hands across the steering wheel lovingly and whispered, "God, I'm going to miss you most of all, baby."
My car was the only constant woman in my life. Her streamlined shape, the way she didn't hold a grudge and didn't expect a phone call after a hot night. Yes, I loved her and I mean who wouldn't. A wet dream of a car…1968 Chevy Camaro, fully restored by my own loving hands and every extra dime I made over the last 10 years I have pumped into her. What a woman!
I drove seamlessly through traffic and pulled into my garage, finally releasing the breath I seemed to have held since I left Carlisle's office. I pulled the soft velveteen cover over my baby and ran a hand down the side panel. "Don't worry baby, she won't mean anything to me."
A heavy sigh escaped me as I trudged through the house, my mind too focused to really pay attention to the shining countertops and neat appearance of my bachelor pad. Seems Sue was here today. I stopped by the phone giving my housekeeper a quick call to let her know I would be leaving on an extended vacation to make sure she would gather my mail and water my plants. Sue was a godsend. She not only refused to let me live in filth, but she took care of me as only a pseudo-mother could.
I pulled out my suitcase and began filling it with faded jeans, t-shirts and pullovers. I threw in my sneakers and some boots….boxers, socks and my IPod and charger. I tossed in a few books that I'd been meaning to read but just never allowed myself the downtime. Lastly, I flung the thick folder containing my and Bella's cover stories and our assigned homework.
I stared at that folder a long time while my mind raced. This would by far be the strangest and most fulfilling collar of my career, if we could pull it off. I thought of Bella, her wide eyes flitting across my mind and I wondered what exactly this cover would entail. Would we have to be intimate? I scoffed at myself; of course we would but how intimate? Would we have sex? What kind of sex? Vanilla "hold me until I fall asleep Master" sex? Or "up against the wall, hair pulling, biting "fuck me harder Master" sex?
My dick twitched in my pants at the latter thought. "You stay out of this!" I mumbled giving my crotch a pointed stare as I threw my toiletries bag together. Was I supposed to tie her up? Spank her? Make her lick my feet? I shuddered at the last thought, ewww….not feet! My cock was now doing a spastic seizure dance behind my zipper.
All I knew at this moment was I was about to enter into a relationship, albeit a fake relationship, which lived and breathed on knowing a person inside and out and trusting each other with everything that you have….and I was doing this with a complete stranger. Oh, and let's not forget and one slip-up and we'd both be dead. No pressure there.
The taxi pulled up outside the address listed on the file. I had to do a double take. I don't know what I was picturing as far as a den of debauchery, but this suburban abode is not it. I could easily picture a kid's lemonade stand on the corner and waving at my neighbor over the fence….not exactly whipping my girl over a whipping bench kind of neighborhood. Suburban paradise. Just like that, my tension skyrocketed. I glanced around furtively as I climbed out of the cab and the trunk was popped for me to retrieve my suitcase. I paid the cabby and approached the door with trepidation. I just knew that the key they gave me wouldn't work; obviously I got the address wrong.
"Motherfuck!" I mumbled as the lock disengaged and I opened the door. I stepped in cautiously taking in the wall to wall hardwood floors and cozy furnishings. Hell, there were even photos of Bella and I on the mantle. That explains forwarding candid photos to IT earlier today, thank God for Photoshop. I looked closely at the fabricated images and for the life of me, it seemed that I should have been able to recall those memories splashed out onto the shiny paper.
"Damn, boys at IT deserve big raises." I continued to wander aimlessly through the rooms admiring the dark wood of the kitchen cabinets and each photo and trinket on each surface. To the unknown observer, you would think we'd lived here for years and I instantly felt uneasy about tarnishing this pristine place with whatever it was that was going to happen here.
After roaming through the entire house, I cautiously opened the door off the kitchen to reveal a wide staircase in oak leading down. I stepped down and stopped short at a heavy taupe metal door. I turned the knob, amazed to find it locked. Huh, that's unusual.
I didn't have time to ponder as a relative herd of elephants thundered across the floor upstairs. I immediately reached for my piece in my shoulder harness, cursing when I remembered that it and my badge were back at home, locked in the safe just as Carlisle asked.
"Freeze, Mister!" I heard HER voice. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…..what the fuck? I raced up the stairs and through the door into the kitchen looking around wildly and not seeing anything out of the ordinary.
"Stop! Now damnit!" I followed the shrieks until I skidded to a stop outside the door of the powder room door, Bella's wide-eyed expression met mine as she pulled on the collar of the biggest white fur ball of a dog who's determined to continue drinking from the toilet.
I feel the tension drain as I begin to chuckle, which turns into a cackle soon followed by me sliding down the wall clutching my gut and howling in laughter. This dog weighs more than she does. Why I imagined some little shitty yap dog, I don't know, but this behemoth? I like to say she definitely surprises me.
"A little help please, asshole!" She grits out as she pulls on the collar a bit harder to no avail. "Jake, c'mon, please." She whines pitifully.
"This is your dog? Are you sure it isn't a wooly mammoth? God, look at the size of him." I chuckle watching him slurp in the bowl of the toilet. I almost want to reassure her that at least it's clean given the condition of the rest of the place but I don't seeing the desperate look on her face.
"Jake! Come!" I say strongly. She watches in utter shock as the dog stops, licks his jowls and sits by my left side. "How did? What did? How the fuck did you do that?" She stammers completely aghast at the 180 degree turn in the animal.
"What can I say baby, I'm a natural Dom." I should've have winked, but sometimes I just can't help that shit. Her glare tells me she didn't appreciate my dickhead humor…she'll learn.
After settling in and putting away all our stuff in appropriate drawers and such, we gather in the living room across from each other on the matching red sofas with our file folders and a couple of pens. Neither of us really seemed ready to tackle the "where are you going to sleep?" question that hung in the air while we silently put away our things.
"So, let's find out who we are, shall we?" I said as we opened the folder simultaneously.
"Edward Carter, 29, self-made mogul in the computer investment market, works from home. Only child, parents deceased, originally from Modesto, California, grew up in San Diego." I read the generalized bio of my new identity with little emotion.
"Isabella Miller, 25, works from home as a medical transcriptionist, only child of Charles and Renee Miller, both parents also deceased. Originally from Atlanta, grew up in Atlanta until moving to San Diego four years ago to pursue a career in modeling." She snorts a little at the last word.
"What?" I ask, curious to hear her thoughts.
"Seriously, a model…like anyone's going to believe that!" She snorts again a giggles to herself.
"I can see it." I mumble, "Moving on. We met through the BDSM scene in San Diego and quickly established a relationship of D/s after a few scenes together. Scenes? Like acting scenes?" I muse aloud as she shrugs.
"We've been living a 24/7 relationship for the past nearly four years. We recently re-located two months ago to Chicago. We want to get established in the BDSM scene here and have made connections with Master Whitlock and His submissive last month at a mixer in Rosemont." She says chewing on the end of her pen.
"24/7? What else is there? Master? Mixer? What the hell?" She asks more to herself than to me. I don't want to seem ignorant, but I have no idea what half of this means. I never thought of myself as vanilla…hell, maybe I am.
"Do you expect me to call you Master? Honestly, I don't know if I can do it with a straight face." She laughs and looks at me in an open challenge.
"You say that now, it'll fall off your lips like a mantra when I'm spanking your ass." I grumble, her simple little question emasculating my ego.
Her gasp forces my eyes to her face. I don't know what strikes me more, the deep brown fury in her orbs or the beautiful blush radiating up her neck and across her cheeks.
Oh, this should be fun. Pure adulterated hell on earth.
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