Page 9 of His to Teach
Then we’re too far away to see them in the dark.
“The rest of this room will be more of the same,” Nate says as we pass a handcuffed woman giving a blowjob to her partner. It takes me a moment to realize that she’s wearing a collar, and by then we’ve already passed them. I swallow, the overwhelmed feeling thick in my chest. “We can stay and observe some more,” he continues. “If you’d like. Or we could move on to something a little more…intense.”
I swallow. We’re standing approximately seven feet from a couple full out having sex on the floor, the woman riding the man while several people watch. And he wants to show me somethingmoreintense.
He stops to look down at me. “It’s up to you,” he reminds me, smiling. “It’s always up to you.”
Once again, his words have the effect of strengthening my resolve, giving me more confidence.
“I’d like to see whatever you want to show me.”
Nate’s grin is breathtaking. He looks so…pleased. Something about that expression has a thrill of pleasure rising in me.
I like pleasing him, I realize. I like it very much.
HARPER
Nate leads me back to the hallway. We pass several doors and I can’t stop myself from trying to see inside each, my curiosity piqued. I stumble a little when we pass what looks like a classroom, complete with student desks and a blackboard. Nate grins down at me a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Some of our members like role playing,” he says. “A few of the rooms can be fixed up into different settings to help with the mood.”
I barely have time to wonder what other “settings” might be lurking in this building before Nate is pulling me along again, not stopping until we reach a large plexiglass window. “Oh good,” he says. “They’re about to start.”
“Start?”
Before I can peer through the window, Nate pulls me into a nearby doorway. This room is empty and small, barely larger than a closet. But one entire wall is glass, giving us a view into the room whose window we had just passed.
“They can’t see us,” Nate says, drawing me closer to the window. “One-way glass.” As I peer into the room, I can see thatthe opposite walls are mirrored and wonder if that, too, is one-way glass.
“There are…there are other rooms like the one we’re in?” I ask, my throat dry.
He nods. “You can either watch from the hallway or from a viewing room, and there are several.”
“Why?”
He grins. “In case you want more privacy than the hallway provides.”
My throat goes completely dry. We’re alone in here, just the two of us, about to watch who the hell knows what.
“I thought you might want to see the other side of the coin,” he murmurs, once again stepping behind me. He tilts my chin towards the glass and his voice is amused. “Look around. I’m sure this will be very enlightening for your studies.”
There’s a padded bench placed in the center of the room. Waist high, it appears to be made of wood and covered in red leather, with several cuffs attached in various places along the legs. I watch in fascination as a fully dressed man enters the room. He’s wearing jeans and a white tee, his face partially obscured by shadow. He walks to a counter top, running his fingers over whatever is set there, arranging things I can’t see in the dim shadow of the room.
Then she appears in the same doorway. The woman is tall and willowy, blond hair pulled up into a tight bun high on her head, dressed in a short black robe. She makes me think of a dancer, all long limbs and graceful movement.
The man walks to her, smiling, holding out his hand as she makes her way to meet him near the bench. I can see them both much more clearly— the lights in the room must be directly over the bench, obviously the point of focus in the room. I swallow.
The man slips the woman’s robe off, revealing her naked form. He kisses her once, on the forehead, and then gestures atthe bench. I’ve read enough on the subject to have a pretty good idea of what I’m about to witness, and my heart beats wildly in my chest, so hard that I’m starting to feel dizzy. As if he can tell, Nate tightens his arms around me.
“How much would you like to hear?” he asks.
“Hear?”
He nods against my shoulder. “There’s an audio feed from the performance room,” he explains. “As well as from the other viewing rooms.”
I freeze in his arms. In the room, the woman kneels over the bench so that her chest is flush against the leather. “Can the other rooms hearus?”
He shakes his head. “Only if I turn on our feed. Which I won’t do, not tonight.”
