"Yeah, then maybe I'll have the credentials to join Alpha myself."
He gave a wry shake of his head. "You'd seriously want to do that, having seen what you've seen?"
"I don't know. It's not like it hasn't entered my mind. If you ignore all the guns and kidnappings and such, it is pretty cool." I took a sip of champagne. "Besides, it would certainly solve one of our current predicaments."
"I suppose it would."
"How exactly does one join anyway? Joe said he kind of just plucked you out of the army."
His smile gained a hint of nostalgia. "He told you about that, hey? Yeah, I'm not sure what I would have done if he hadn't found me. I was pretty lost, up until that point. Now I've actually got a purpose.
"As for recruitment, there's no one way. You get people like Thomas, who just work ridiculously hard in their chosen field until we can't help but notice them. He made an absolute killing working for one of the big oil companies, before we found him. And then you've got the guys like Trey, who just get in on their family name."
"Ooh, trust fund baby, is he? I had no idea. He doesn't seem like that much of a dick."
Sebastian laughed. "He's fine, most of the time, although to be honest, a bunch of us didn't want to accept his application. We like to recruit people on their merits, not their bloodline, but his dad was a member before him, and he desperately wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. I think it was one of those old money tradition things. Anyway, he pulled some strings and had enough friends that eventually he got his way. Keep that to yourself, though."
"Yeah, sure. I guess since my family has all the eminence of a McNugget Happy Meal, I'll have to go the hard working route."
His expression lost a little of its playfulness. "Let's cross that bridge if we get there, hey?"
I wasn't really sure if I was being serious, but the idea seemed to distress him, so I decided to drop it.
The next few days took on a strangely comfortable quality. If you ignored the nightmarish backdrop, Sebastian and I almost looked like an ordinary, wholesome, professional couple. Each day we'd race through a quick breakfast together before heading to our respective offices. We'd slave away for ten hours or so, occasionally calling each other to whisper sweet nothings, before returning home and spending a few hours in front of the TV or making love, and then collapsing into bed and doing it all again. I'd never really pictured myself being in a long term relationship, but if I had, that was basically how it would have gone. Only the occasional harried expression on Sebastian's face and the presence of our little security team managed to shatter the illusion of normality.
Of course, things were far from fixed. Work was a welcome distraction, but it didn't quite temper the edginess that I seemed to carry around with me permanently, now. In fact, if anything, it made it worse. Logically, I knew that nothing was likely to happen. My building was swarming with people until well past dinner time every night, and my bodyguards met me just feet from the front door. Someone would have to be incredibly bold or incredibly stupid to try anything there. But, nonetheless, I couldn't shake the sensation that I was constantly being watched. It made me jumpy and agitated.
Sebastian seemed to recognise that I was struggling, because he was really putting in a ton of effort. Between the sexy texts and cute little gifts he had delivered to my office — I'm not afraid to admit that I'm a sucker for a bunch of red roses — I was actually feeling rather spoilt. And then he delivered the coup de grace.
On Saturday, I arrived at home to find a note on the kitchen counter. Despite the fact that there was nobody else living there, he'd addressed it like all the others. Sophia. Unlike his last letter, this one sent a wave of excitement shooting though me. He was back to his old tricks.
With eager fingers, I unfolded it.
Dear Sophia.
I may be a little later than normal tonight. Hopefully you can excuse me. I know things have been a little difficult lately, so I've decided we need a nice romantic night together. I'd like you to set up a few things for me before I get home.
In the freezer you'll find a bag of ice. Take it into the bedroom and fill the bucket that's on the dresser. There's a bottle of champagne next to it which I'd like you to chill.
In the bedroom you'll also find a box of matches and several candles. There's nothing like a little mood lighting. Light them and scatter them around the room.
Finally, on the bed is an item I believe you will remember fondly. After you've removed everything else you're wearing, put it on and then wait for me on the bed lying face down.
I'll see you soon.
-S
I found myself biting my lip as I read, my skin already prickling with heat. The scene he described was basically the epitome of romance, but the heavy, commanding tone with which he wrote was unmistakable. There was more afoot here than was immediately obvious. It had been a while since one of his letters, long enough to make me heady with anticipation.
After ducking quickly to the freezer, I made a beeline for the bedroom, already suspecting that I knew what I'd find. I wasn't let down. If I'd had any doubts that tonight would be more kinky than our recent sessions, they vanished the moment my eyes fell on the bed. Lying on the quilt was the blindfold Sebastian had originally left for me in the hotel several months ago. Just thinking about that night sent something warm surging between my legs. The sting of his hand, the bite of the rope; that had been the night when everything changed. I'd gone in one woman and come out another.
Placing the champagne inside the bucket I buried it in ice, then lit the candles and dimmed the light. I had to admit, the scene did look incredibly romantic. After stripping, I knelt on the bed and wrapped the black silk around my head, knotting it firmly at the back. Last time I'd been hesitant, even a little frightened, but now could barely contain my excitement. Sebastian had taught me well the pleasure of sensory deprivation.
For a while I lay, enjoying the silence as anticipation rose inside me. I knew the wait was part of the experience. My wandering mind was winding me up as effectively as any foreplay. Would it be another spanking? More restraint? Or did he have other tricks up his sleeve?
It could have been fifteen minutes or an hour, I'm not sure, but eventually, I heard the tell-tale click of the front door unlocking. My body tensed. I assumed he'd come straight to me, but everything remained silent. I realised I'd left the bedroom door open and the floors here were carpeted, meaning I'd have no indication when he finally arrived. He could have been in the room at that very moment.