Chapter 12
Isabelle
Crap.
How does one explain a ‘hobby club’ without flat-out saying, ‘Oh, yeah, it’s a kinky BDSM club for people with all sorts of desires and fantasies,’ to their former music teacher?
My mind scrambles for something to say. There were needles and wax involved…
“It was needlecraft and candles…” I cringe deep down. That sounded so lame, like I’m eighty years old. James is silent for a few moments. “Never pegged you for a sewing and crafts person.”
I sigh inwardly, both hating and loving where my mind goes. It’s been a while since I last pegged someone. But that could change soon, fingers crossed. “Er… Yeah… Just erm…trying it.” I feel my face warming. This is mortifying, like I’m my eighteen-year-old self with the biggest crush
Yes, Miss
on my teacher all over again. Christ, I’m a fucking grown up. Act like it. There’s just something about him that makes me feel so flustered.
We reach our classrooms, students already crowding the hallways as James turns to me, a soft smile on his lips. “We have to make the final arrangements for the student theatre trip to London. I’ll see you at lunch to go through the plan.”
A tingle of anticipation flits in my stomach.
A night away with James will be good, albeit surrounded by students.
To see him outside of work and get to know him as James rather than Mr. Wentworth.
The time I’ve spent with him has left me feeling happy and at peace, like he has a steadying influence.
But he always did. He’ll never know what it meant to me to know that I could always go to him if I needed to when I was recovering from my ordeal with Matt.
The hollow black feeling that had settled inside me back then brightened after our lessons.
The deep numbness that had cloaked me, lightened with the laughter he brought.
To be able to spend this time with him feels like a privilege. To think that his ex-wife may have cheated on him—from what I could piece together from comments made by Daniel—is devastating. How could someone do that to him?
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Excitement fizzes inside as I think of our hotel rooms, so close, both of us alone in our beds. A few drinks after the meal….
For fuck’s sake, Isabelle! Nothing can come of this! I've only just started this job, and I’m getting a crush on him. Again.
Nope, not a crush. Just an…appreciation.
Yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that!
I push past the throng of students gathered in the hallway and open my classroom door, switching into teacher mode. Finally, my slutty inner voice can shut up for a short spell.
Later, in the staff room, we meet to finalise the trip details. I open the battered staffroom door to the aroma of coffee and see James sitting at the table, his top button undone and sleeves rolled up.
Oh Jeez, he’s pulling out the forearms.
Please give me one moment whilst I swoon.
He smiles his lopsided grin and stands as I approach, pulling my chair out for me as I place my bag on the floor and take out my laptop.
His broad frame could seem intimidating if you didn't know him, but this guy is a walking green flag. His deep amber and citrus cologne fills my nostrils as I do my best
Yes, Miss
to hide the fact I’m breathing him in deeply, taking my fill of him.
He takes his seat and pushes a cup in front of me, hot milky coffee already poured. The scent of caramel hits me as I take a sip, and the sweetness floods my taste buds. I glance up in surprise; a questioning look on my face.
“I saw your cup at the match. The one from that coffee chain. And given your tea with two sugars preference, I figured you liked sweet coffee. If you don’t like it, I can swap with you?”
I smile, warmth spreading through my chest at this beautiful man’s thoughtfulness and observational skills. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
He nods gently, a soft, satisfied smile curving those full lips up as he looks away, picking up his papers from the desk.
“I’m old school, I’m afraid. I need printed notes to work out what I’m doing.” He lets out a soft laugh, looking almost embarrassed.
“Paper notes work fine for me,” I reply as I grab my highlighters from my bag.
“Okay, so we have the hotel bookings confirmed and the coach to take us down. I got you a single occupancy room but with a double bed. Is that okay? Or…do you, erm,
Alexandra Ravensbrook
have anyone that may join you?” He coughs a little over the end of his question.
Is he trying to find out if I’m single?
“Smooth, James, real smooth,” I laugh. “I’m single, and no one will be joining me. I’m sure the room will be just fine.”
He drops his head into his hands, covering his face. “I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business.” he mutters, looking up, the pinkish tinge to his face starting to fade.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry! Anyone joining you? Just so I know I need to call security if I hear noises from your room!” I joke, trying to lighten the vibe again.
“No!” he blurts out. “No one… No one at all,” he replies, his tone a little softer now.
“Okay then, that's that awkward exchange out of the way!” I smile and take another drink of the beautiful latte he made me.
“We’re going to be in hotel rooms next door to each other at the end of the hallway so we can keep an eye on the students' activities,” he continues, trying to get back to the business at hand.
“But as most are over eighteen now, there isn’t much we can do to stop any drinking or hooking up.”
Yes, Miss
He shrugs, acknowledging the futility of trying to stop them doing anything.
I still find it strange to consider that I am now in charge of students who are only a few years younger than me.
“What are we doing for the evening meal? Do we need to book a restaurant?”
“No, the hotel has cut us a deal to do a set menu for the students so we can keep them under one roof. We’ll spend the evening sitting in the hotel lobby bar and be around in case we are needed, but other than that, the night is ours.
” He sits back and smiles. “I thought it would be nice to eat together and get a chance to chat. We can get to know each other better,” he offers as he looks down, trying to appear engrossed in his papers.
I reach across to him and place my hand on his forearm, his skin warming mine.
He tenses at my touch as his muscles flex beneath my fingers.
He looks up, his deep brown eyes looking straight into mine, like he’s trying to read my soul.
It takes my breath away. We stay locked into the moment for a few more seconds, my heart beating hard in my chest.
The noise of a throat clearing behind us breaks the tension, and we both spin round in our seats to see Jennifer standing at the kitchenette, making a drink and looking at the schoolyard.
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I wanted to tell him that I would love that so much. To reassure him that I’m happy to tell him what he wants to know and that I appreciate all the efforts he’s made.
I see each and every one of them. I see him.
My hand feels cold as I remove my touch from his arm, and I crave the feeling of touching him again.
Thoughts of his solid, warm body against mine, wrapping me in his scent and his heat, his strong arms around me, have me squeezing my thighs together, trying desperately to ignore the building need there.
We quickly wrap up the remainder of the plans before the rest of the staff come in for lunch and before I combust with the need to relieve my building desire.
As expected, the students are too excited for the rest of the week, and teaching them is like trying to herd cats by Friday lunchtime, so I give up and tell them to go research the show they are going to see.
‘The Woman in Black’ is a classic play using minimal actors and props, but it’s so captivating.
I want them to learn that stagecraft, not props or flashy costumes, is what holds the audience's attention.
Exhaustion takes its toll by the end of the day, and my head is pounding. I can’t bring myself to summon the energy to go to the Friday drinks round. The thought of being in a pub surrounded by noise and chatter is too
Yes, Miss
much for today. It’s time to go home and sort through my mail.
As I put my key in the lock of my front door, my neighbour—a little old lady—comes out and waves. Ah, shit. Edith seems so sweet, but she is a one-woman neighbourhood watch. She doesn't miss a thing.
“Hello, sweetie,” she rasps with the voice of a woman who has smoked for decades.
“You had a delivery that needed a signature, so I took it in for you.” She starts to hand the thick padded envelope to me but snatches it back just as I reach for it.
“Looks fancy… You ordered something nice?” she croons, looking over the envelope for signs of who had sent it.
The envelope is burgundy and glossy, the quality screaming luxury.
I don't remember ordering anything in particular, but I bloody wish Edith would just give me the fucking envelope. I hold my hand out impatiently. Edith extends the envelope one more time to me and cocks an eyebrow. “Say please, young lady.”
I smile sweetly and grit out, “Edith, please can I have my post? Not that you can actually keep it, seeing as that would be illegal, and I never asked you to take my deliveries in the first place. But thank you ever so much for extending the courtesy.”
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Edith huffs and hands the envelope over. “There's no need to be snarky.” She turns on her slippered heel, slamming her door shut.
I settle at the table with my glass of gin and tonic, sorting through my mail. I like to work in date order and be organised, but the tantalising red envelope keeps beckoning me to open it.
Fuck it. I tear open the thick glossy envelope to find a letter with a card attached to a thick booklet with club rules and policies and promotional details for local fetish wear and toy suppliers. As I open the letter with the membership card attached, my heart stops.
I blink again and take a deep breath. It's a dark red card with a swirly capital ‘P’ in fancy script in a circle.
It's identical to the card that had fallen out of James’s wallet.
Well shit just got interesting.
My heart starts to pound again, and nervousness grips my insides. But it’s an exciting feeling. This is a whole new side to him I never even thought about. Is he a sub or a Dom? Or does he have other kinks? I must admit, the idea of James being into that certainly casts a different light on him.
But then the gravity of the situation falls into place.
Yes, Miss
What if we bump into each other there? We have to work together.
Not that I am ashamed at all, but I don't think James would be so comfortable.
He blushes at my touch, so how would he manage if I saw him having sex with someone, no matter what role he played?
The idea of him having sex with anyone else leaves an unpleasant feeling deep inside.
I sit back in my seat and stare out of the garden window at the neighbour’s cat bathing in a patch of sunshine on my patio. Why can’t my life be that simple?
Urgh, how am I supposed to approach this? Tell him I know about the card? Leave it to chance and see what happens?
I shuffle through the leaflets that came with the pack. They have several themed nights a week, and Saturday nights are Domme nights at the club. A ripple of excitement runs down my spine at the thought of being back in my element.
Maybe this is what I need to take my mind off everything. I need some playtime with a new man; someone I can take my time with. Make them crawl and beg for me to give them pleasure.
I am eager to go check out the action. I am determined to go, and I'm not going to let the fact that James is a member spoil my weekend. However, seeing as I have to work with James, I will wear my masquerade mask to hide
Alexandra Ravensbrook
my face until I have been able to talk to him about it. I can't just launch at him and surprise him. That isn't fair on either of us. Somehow, maybe I can just bring it up in conversation with him.
‘So, James, you into any kinky shit?’ Yeah, smooth Isabelle.
I slump in my seat, rest my head back, and close my eyes in defeat.