Fifty Shades of Bishop

When literature student Carina DeLuca goes to interview young, successful businesswoman Maya Bishop for the college newspaper she contributes to, she encounters a woman she finds attractive, enigmatic, and tremendously intimidating. Completely convinced that her encounter has been a failure, she tries to forget about Bishop until she happens to show up at the store where Carina works part-time.
The idealistic and innocent Carina is shocked when she realizes that she wants this woman with all her might, and her warning to stay away only makes her desperation to be with her grow. Unable to resist Carina's intelligence, serene beauty and independent spirit, Bishop eventually admits that she wants her too...but on her own terms.
Dismayed, yet thrilled, by Bishop's intimate preferences, Carina hesitates to enter into a relationship with her. For all her successes - both professional and familial - Bishop is a woman full of inner demons, dominated by the need to take control. And when the two embark on a passionate physical relationship, Carina realizes she's learning more about her own secret needs than she imagined.

Notes:

Inspired by 50 sombras de Lopez by GleeLatino

Can that relationship transcend physical passion? Can Carina submit to a Mistress like Maya? And, if she does, will she like it?

Notes:

Warning, this is a G!P story.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

I look in the mirror and frown, frustrated. My hair sucks. There's no way with it. And damn Gabriella Aurora, she got sick and got me into this mess. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, but here I am, trying to do something about my hair.

I must not go to bed with wet hair. I must not get into bed with wet hair. I recite this mantra several times as I try once again to control it with the brush again to control it with the brush. I despair, roll my eyes, then look at the pale, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl looking at me, and give up. My only option is to pull this unruly hair back into a ponytail and trust myself to be halfway presentable.

Gabriella is my roommate, and she had to catch a cold just today. That's why she can't go to the interview she had arranged for the college magazine with a mega-corporate, with a mega-businesswoman I'd never heard of before. So it's going to be my turn. I have to study for finals, I have to finish a paper and that's what I was supposed to do and that's what I was supposed to be doing this afternoon, but I'm not. What I'm going to do this afternoon is drive over two hundred miles to downtown Seattle to meet with the enigmatic president of Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc. As an exceptional businesswoman and major patron of our university, her time is extraordinarily valuable - a lot of it -much more valuable than mine-but she has granted an interview to Gabriella. A bombshell, according to her, Damn her extracurricular activities.

Gabriella is curled up on the living room couch.
-Cari, I'm sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview. If I ask to reschedule, I'll have to wait another six months, and by then we'll both be graduated. We'll both be graduated by then. I'm in charge of the magazine, so I can't screw it all up. Please..." Gabriella begs me, her voice hoarse with a cold.

How does she do it? Even sick she looks gorgeous, really attractive, with her perfectly coiffed brown hair and bright eyes, although now they are red and watery. I overlook the unwelcome pang of pity she inspires in me.

-Of course I'll come, Gabriella. Go back to bed. Do you want an aspirin or a paracetamol?

-Paracetamol, please. Here are the questions and the recorder. Just press here. And take notes. I'll transcribe everything later.

-I don't know anything about her," I mutter, trying in vain to suppress my panic, which is growing.

-You'll get an idea from the questions. Get out now. It's a long trip. I don't want you to be late.

-Okay, I'm going. Go back to bed. I've made some soup for you to warm up later.

I look at her fondly. I'd only do something like that for you, Gabriella.

-Yes, I will. Good luck. And thank you, Cari. You saved my life for a change.

I grab my purse, throw her a smile and head for the car. I can't believe I let her talk me into it, but Gabriella can talk anyone. She'll make an excellent journalist, she knows how to express herself and argue, she's strong, convincing and beautiful and she's my best friend.

There is hardly any traffic as I leave Vancouver, Washington, heading for Interstate 5. It's early and I don't have to be in Seattle until 2:00 noon.

Luckily, Gabriella has left me her Mercedes CLK. It's not at all clear to me that I could make it in time with Wanda, my old Volkswagen Beetle. Driving the Mercedes is very pleasant. I press hard on the accelerator, and the kilometers fly by.

I head for the headquarters of Mrs. Bishop's multinational, a huge twenty-story building, an architectural fantasy, all glass and steel, and with the words BISHOP HOUSE in a discreet metallic tone on the glass doors at the entrance. It is a quarter to two when I arrive. I enter the immense - and frankly intimidating - glass, steel and white stone foyer, much relieved that I am not late.

From the other side of a solid stone counter I am smiled at politely by an attractive, well-groomed blonde girl. She is wearing the smartest dark gray blazer and white skirt I have ever seen. She looks impeccable.

-I'm here to see Mrs. Bishop. Carina DeLuca, on behalf of Gabriella Aurora.

-Excuse me a moment, Miss DeLuca," she says, raising her eyebrows at me.

I wait sheepishly in front of her. I begin to think I should have worn Gabriella's dress jacket instead of my navy blue blazer. I've made an effort and put on the only skirt I own, my comfortable brown knee-high boots and a blue sweater. For me, that's already dressed up. I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear a strand of hair that has come loose from my ponytail, pretending not to feel intimidated.

-Yes, you have an appointment with Miss Bishop. Sign here, please, Miss DeLuca. Last elevator on the right, 20th floor.

She smiles kindly, no doubt amused, as I sign in.

She holds out a security pass with the word VISITOR printed on it. I can't help but smile. It's obvious I'm just visiting. I'm completely out of place. That's okay, I sigh to myself. I thank him and head toward the elevators, past the two security guards, both much more elegant than me in their perfectly cut black suits. Their perfectly cut black suits.

The elevator whisks me to the 20th floor at breakneck speed. The doors open and I step out into another large lobby, also of glass, steel and white stone. I go to, I approach another stone counter and am greeted by another blonde girl dressed impeccably in black and white.

-Miss DeLuca, could you wait here, please? -She asks, pointing to a white leather seating area.

Behind the leather seats is a large meeting room with glass walls, a dark wood table, also large, and at least twenty matching chairs. Beyond that, a floor-to-ceiling window offers a view of Seattle toward the Sound. The view is so striking that I am momentarily transfixed. Wow. I sit down, pull the questions out of my bag and glance at them, inwardly cursing Gabriella for not passing me a brief biography. I don't know anything about the woman I'm about to interview. She could be as old as ninety or thirty. Insecurity mortifies me and, because I am nervous, I keep fidgeting. I have never felt comfortable in face-to-face interviews. I prefer the anonymity of a group chat, where I can sit at the back of the room and go unnoticed. To be honest, what I like is to be alone, curled up in a chair in a university campus library reading a good English novel, and not stirring in the armchair of a huge building. Sigh Get a grip. Judging by the overly aseptic and modern building, I'm guessing Bishop is in her mid-forties. A woman who keeps herself in tanned and blonde, matching the rest of the staff. Out of a large door on the right comes another elegant, impeccably dressed blonde. Where do so many immaculate blondes come from? They seem to be mass-produced.

I take a deep breath and stand up.

-Miss DeLuca? -the last blonde asks me.

-Yes," I answer in a hoarse voice with a throat clearing. Yes," I repeat, this time in a slightly more confident tone.

-Mrs. Bishop will see you right away. Would you like to leave me your jacket?

-Yes, thank you," I reply, awkwardly trying to take off my jacket.

-Have you been offered something to drink?

-Well... no.

Wow, am I getting the number one blonde in trouble?

Blonde number two frowns and glances at the girl at the counter.

-Would you like tea, coffee, water? -she asks, turning back to me.

-A glass of water, thank you," I answer in a whisper.

-Olivia, get Miss DeLuca a glass of water, please," she says in a serious tone.

Olivia rushes out immediately and disappears behind a door across the hall.

-I beg your pardon, Miss DeLuca. Olivia is our new intern. Please take a seat. Mrs. Bishop will be with you in five minutes.

Olivia returns with a glass of very cold water.

-Here you are, miss.

-Thank you.

The blonde number two makes her way to the huge counter. Her heels click on the stone floor. She sits down and they both continue working.

Perhaps Mrs. Bishop insists that all her employees be blonde. I'm distracted, wondering if that's legal, when the office door opens and out steps a tall, handsome, curly-haired, smartly dressed African-American man comes out. Clearly, I couldn't have made a worse choice of clothes.

He turns to the door.

- Bishop, are we playing golf this week?

I don't hear the answer. The African-American sees me and smiles. The corners of his eyes crinkle. Olivia has jumped up to call the elevator.

She seems to excel at jumping out of her chair. She's more nervous than I am.

-Good afternoon, ladies," says the African-American, stepping into the elevator.

-Mrs. Bishop will see you now, Miss DeLuca. You may go in," says blonde number two.

I stand up, wobbling a little and trying to contain my nerves. I grab my purse, put down my glass of water, and head for the ajar door.

-There's no need to knock. Just walk right in," she says, smiling at me.

I push open the door, trip over my own foot and fall face first into the office.

Shit, shit! How clumsy... I'm on my knees with my hands flat on the floor at the entrance to Mrs. Bishop's office, and gentle hands surround me to help me up. I'm dead embarrassed, how clumsy! I have to work up the courage to look up. My goodness, how young she is.

-Miss Aurora," she says, holding out a long-fingered hand as soon as I sit up. - I'm Maya Bishop. Are you all right? Would you like to sit down?

Very young. And attractive, very attractive. Tall, in a very elegant gray suit with a skirt, white shirt and black tie, with unruly blonde hair and bright blue eyes that watch me closely, Blue eyes that watch me attentively. I need a moment to be able to articulate a word.

-Well, to tell you the truth...

I shut up. If this woman is over thirty years old. I shake her hand, stunned, and we greet each other. When our fingers touch, I feel a strange, thrilling shiver a strange, exhilarating shiver through my body. I hastily withdraw my hand, uncomfortable. It must be static electricity. I blink rapidly, in rhythm with my heartbeat.

-Miss Aurora is indisposed, so she sent me. I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Bishop.

-And you are?

Her voice is warm and seems amused, but her impassive expression does not allow me to be sure. She seems mildly interested, but mostly very polite.

-Carina DeLuca. I study English literature with Gabriella... I mean... Miss Aurora, at Washington State.

-I see," she merely replies.

I think I see the hint of a smile on her face, but I'm not sure.

-Would you like to sit down? she asks, pointing to a white leather L-shaped couch.

Her office is exaggeratedly large for a single person. In front of the panoramic windows is a dark wooden table at which six people could comfortably eat at. It matches the small table next to the sofa. Everything else is white - the ceiling, the floor and the walls - except for the wall by the door, on thirty-six small pictures form a kind of square mosaic. They are beautiful, a series of prosaic and insignificant objects, painted in such detail that they look like photographs. But hung together on the wall, they are impressive.

-An artist here. Trouton," Mrs. Bishop says to me when she realizes what I'm looking at.

-They're very beautiful. They elevate the ordinary to the extraordinary," I murmur distractedly, both by her and the paintings.

She tilts her head and looks at me with rapt attention.

-I couldn't agree more, Miss DeLuca," she replies quietly.

And for some inexplicable reason I blush.

Apart from the paintings, the rest of the office is cold, clean and aseptic. I wonder if it reflects the personality of the Aphrodite sitting elegantly across from me in a white leather chair. I lower my head, disturbed by the direction my thoughts are taking, and take Gabriella's questions out of my bag. Then I prepare the recorder so clumsily that I drop it twice on the small table. Mrs. Bishop doesn't open her mouth. She waits patiently, I hope, and I feel more and more embarrassed and embarrassed and redder and redder. When I muster the courage to look at her, she is watching me, with one hand on her leg and the other around her chin, and with her long index finger across her lips. I think she's trying to stifle a smile.

-Sorry," I stammers, "I don't usually use it.

-Take all the time you need, Miss DeLuca," she answers.

-Do you mind if I record your answers?

-You're asking me now, after all the trouble you've gone through setting up the tape recorder?

I blush. Are you kidding? I hope so. I blink, not knowing what to say, and I think she takes pity on me, because she agrees.

-No, I don't mind.

-Did Gabriella... I mean... Miss Aurora explain to you what the interview was for?

-Yes. For the last issue of this year's faculty magazine, because I'll be presenting the degrees at this year's graduation ceremony.

Wow. I just found out. And for a moment I'm worried that someone not much older than me, okay, maybe six or seven years, and okay, a mega-achiever, but still - will hand me the title. I frown and try to focus my whimsical attention on what I have to do.

-Well," I say, swallowing my saliva. - I have a few questions, Mrs. Bishop.

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

-Yes, I think you should ask me something," she says blankly.

She's teasing me. Realizing this, my cheeks burn. I sit up a little and stretch my back to look taller and more intimidating. I press the button on the recorder, trying to look professional.

-You are too young to have amassed this empire. To what do you owe your success?

I look at her and she smirks, but looks slightly disappointed.

-Business is about people, Miss DeLuca, and I'm very good at analyzing them. I know how they work, what makes them better, what doesn't, what inspires them, and how to encourage them. I have an exceptional team, and I pay them well. -She pauses for a moment and gazes at me with her piercing gaze. I believe that to succeed in any field you have to master it, to know it inside and out, to know every detail. I work hard, very hard, to achieve it. I make decisions based on logic and facts. I have an innate instinct to recognize and develop a good idea, and to select the right people. The basis is always to have the right people.

-Maybe you just got lucky.

This comment is not on Gabriella's list, but she is so arrogant... For a moment, surprise flashes in her eyes.

-I don't believe in luck or chance, Miss DeLuca. The harder I work, the luckier I get. It's really a matter of having the right people on your team and knowing how to direct their efforts. I think it was Harvey Firestone who said that the most important job of management is to grow and develop people.

-You sound like a control freak.

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

-Well, I control everything, Ms. DeLuca," she replies without a trace of humor in her smile.

I look at her and she holds my gaze, impassive. My heart skips a beat and I blush again.

Why does she have this disconcerting effect on me? Maybe because she is irresistibly attractive? Because of the way she stares at me? Because of the way she runs her index finger across her lower lip? I wish she would stop doing that.

-Besides, telling yourself, in your innermost self, that you were born to exercise control gives you immense power," she continues to tell me quietly.

-Do you think your power is immense?

Control freak, I add to myself.

-I have over forty thousand employees, Miss DeLuca. That gives me a certain sense of responsibility... power, if you will. If I were to decide that I was no longer interested in the telecommunications business and sold it all, twenty thousand people would be struggling to pay their mortgages in a little over a month.

My jaw drops. I am flabbergasted by her lack of humility.

-Doesn't you have to answer to a board of directors? -I ask disgusted.

-I am the owner of my company. I don't have to answer to any board of directors.

She looks at me with a raised eyebrow and I blush. Sure, I would have known that if I had done a little research. But damn, how arrogant... I change tactics.

-And what are your interests, apart from work?

-I'm interested in many different things, Miss DeLuca. -she smiles an almost imperceptible smile. Very diverse.

For some reason, her steady gaze confuses and inflames me. But there's a wicked gleam in her eyes.

-But if you work so hard, what do you do to relax?

-Relax?

She smiles, showing her teeth, white and perfect. I hold my breath. She's really pretty. It should be forbidden to be so beautiful.

-Well, to relax, as you say, I sail, fly and indulge in various physical activities. I'm very rich, Miss DeLuca, so I have hobbies, expensive and fascinating hobbies.

I glance quickly at Gabriella's questions with the intention of not pursuing the subject further.

-You invests in manufacturing. Why manufacturing in particular? -I ask.

Why does it make me so uncomfortable?

-I like to build. I like to know how things work, what their mechanism is, how they are assembled and disassembled, and I love boats. And I love boats. What can I tell you?

-It seems that it's your heart that speaks, not logic and facts.

She purses her kips and looks me up and down.

-It's possible. Although some would say I have no heart.

-Why would they say such a thing?

-Because they know me well. -she answers me with a wry smile.

-Would your friends say it's easy to know you? And I'm sorry I asked her that question. It's not on Gabriella's list.

-I'm a very private person, Miss DeLuca. I do my best to protect my private life. I don't usually give interviews.

-Why did you accept this one?

-Because I'm a patron of the university, and because, try as I might, I couldn't get Miss Aurora off my back. She kept pestering my PR people, and I admire that tenacity.

I admire that tenacity, and I know how tenacious she can be.

I know how tenacious Gabriella can be. That's why I'm sitting here, uncomfortable and embarrassed under this woman's piercing gaze, when I should be studying for my exams.

I should be studying for my exams.

-You also invest in agricultural technology. Why are you interested in this field?

-Money doesn't eat, Ms. DeLuca, and there are too many people in the world who have nothing to eat.

-You sound very philanthropic. Are you passionate about feeding the world's poor?

She shrugs, as if giving me the runaround.

-It's good business," she murmurs.

But I don't think she's being sincere. It doesn't make sense. Feeding the world's poor? I don't see what economic benefits it can provide. All I see is that it's a noble idea. I glance at the next question, confused by her attitude.

-Do you have a philosophy? And if so, what does it consist of?

-I don't have a philosophy as such. Maybe a principle that guides me... I'm very peculiar, very tenacious. I like control... of myself and of those around me.

-So you want to own things...

-I want to deserve to own them, but yes, deep down that's what it is.

-You seem to be the paradigm of the consumer.

-I am.

She smiles, but the smile doesn't light up her eyes. again, it doesn't fit as a person who wants to feed the world, so I can't help but think we're talking about something else, but I haven't the faintest idea what. I swallow, It's getting hotter and hotter in the office, or maybe it's just me. I just want to get the interview over with. I'm sure Gabriella has enough material already. I glance at the next question.

-You were a foster child. To what extent do you think it has influenced the way you are?

Wow, a personal question. I look at her hoping she won't be offended. She frowns.

-I can't know.

I'm curious.

- How old were you when you were adopted?

-Everyone knows, Miss DeLuca," she answers me very seriously.

Oh, shit. Yeah, right. If I'd known I was going to do this interview, I would have done a little research. I change the subject quickly.

-You had to sacrifice your family life for the job.

-That's not a question," she replies dryly.

-I'm sorry.

I can't sit still. You've made me feel like a lost child. I try again.

-Have you had to sacrifice your family life for work?

-I have a family. A brother, a sister and parents who love me. But I'm not interested in talking about my family anymore.

-Are you gay, Mrs. Bishop?

She takes a deep breath. I'm ashamed, embarrassed. Shit. Why didn't I glance at the question before I read it? How am I going to tell her I'm just reading the questions? Damn Gabriella and her curiosity.

-Yes, Carina, I'm gay...intersex, Do you want me to explain what it is?

She raises her eyebrows and looks at me with cold eyes. She doesn't look pleased.

- I apologize. It's... well... it's written here.

It was the first time she called me by my name. My heart skips a beat and my cheeks burn again. Nervously, I tuck the lock of hair behind my ear.

She tilts her head slightly.

-Aren't the questions yours?

I want the earth to swallow me up.

-Well... no. Gabriella... Miss Aurora... passed me a list.

-Are you classmates from the faculty magazine?

-No.

Oh, no. I have nothing to do with the magazine. It's an extracurricular activity of hers, not mine. My cheeks burn.

-No. She's my roommate.

She rubs her chin sparingly and her blue eyes watch me intently.

-Have you offered to do this interview? -she asks me in an eerily calm tone.

Now, who is supposed to be interviewing whom? Her gaze burns inside me and I can't help but tell her the truth.

-She asked me, She's not feeling well," I reply quietly, apologetically.

-This explains a lot.

There's a knock at the door and blonde number two enters.

-Mrs. Bishop, forgive me for interrupting, but your next meeting is in two minutes.

-We're not finished, Andrea. Cancel my next meeting, please.

Andrea's mouth drops open, not knowing what to say. She looks lost. Ms. Bishop turns her face toward her slowly and raises her eyebrows. The girl turns blushes. Thank goodness I'm not the only one.

-Very well, Mrs. Bishop," she murmurs, and leaves the office.

She frowns and turns her attention back to me.

-Where were we, Ms. DeLuca?

Oh, here we go again with the "Miss DeLuca" thing.

-I wouldn't want to interrupt your duties.

-I want to hear from you. I think it's only fair.

Her eyes are shining with curiosity. Shit, shit. What's she up to? she rests her elbows on the armrests of the chair and clasps the fingertips of both hands together, Her mouth... it throws me off. I swallow.

-There's not much to know," I say, blushing again.

-What are your plans after graduation?

I shrug. Her interest puzzles me. Coming to Seattle with Gabriella, finding a job... I haven't really thought much beyond the exams.

-I haven't made any plans, Mrs. Bishop. I have to pass my final exams.

And right now I should be studying, not sitting in your huge, aseptic, beautiful office, feeling uncomfortable in front of your penetrating gaze.

-We have an excellent internship program here," she says in a calm tone.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Is She offering me a job?

-I'll consider it," I murmur in confusion. I don't think I'd fit in here, though.

Oh, no. There I go thinking out loud again.

-Why do you say that?

She cocks her head slightly, intrigued, and a slight smile hints on her lips.

-It's obvious, isn't it?

I'm clumsy, slovenly.

-Not to me.

Her gaze is intense and her hint of a smile has disappeared. Suddenly I feel strange muscles tighten in my stomach. I avert my eyes from her scrutinizing gaze and stare at my knuckles, though I can't see them. What's going on? I have to leave right now. I lean forward to pick up the scrutinizer and stare at my knuckles, though I don't see them. What's going on?

-Would you like me to show you the building? - She asks.

-I'm sure you're very busy, Mrs. Bishop, and I have a long drive.

-Are you driving back to Vancouver?

She looks surprised, even nervous. She looks out the window. It's started to rain.

-Well, drive carefully," she says in a serious, authoritative tone.

Why should she care?

-Have you asked me everything you need? - she adds.

-Yes," I reply, slipping the recorder into my bag.

She closes her eyes slightly, as if thinking.

-Thank you for the interview, Mrs. Bishop.

-It was my pleasure," she replies, polite as ever.

I stand up, and she stands up and holds out her hand.

-See you next time, Miss DeLuca.

And it sounds like a challenge, or a threat. I'm not sure which. I frown. When will we see each other again? I shake her hand again, perplexed that this strange current keeps circulating between us. It must be nerves.

- Mrs. Bishop.

I nod goodbye to her. She goes to the door with grace and agility, and opens it wide.

-Make sure you get through the door on the right foot, Miss DeLuca.

She smiles at me. It's clear she's referring to my ungraceful entrance into her office. I blush.

-Very kind of you, Ms. Bishop," I snap at her.

Her smile deepens. I'm glad I amused her. I step out into the foyer, sparking, and am surprised that she follows me. Andrea and Olivia look up, as surprised as I am.

-Did you bring a coat? -Bishop asks me.

-Jacket.

Olivia jumps up to get my jacket, which Bishop snatches out of her hands before she can hand it to me. She holds it up for me to put on, and I do, feeling totally ridiculous. For a moment Bishop rests her hands on my shoulders, and I wince at the feel of her touch. If she notices my reaction, it doesn't show, her long index finger presses the elevator button and we wait, me awkwardly, and she serene and cool. The doors open and I rush in, desperate to escape. I have to get out of here. When I turn around, she is leaning in front of the elevator door, one hand resting on the wall. she's very pretty. Very beautiful.

-Carina," she says by way of farewell.

-Maya," I answer.

And fortunately the doors close

Notes:

Hi, I thought I would bring this adaptation and I hope you like it. Recommend it to whoever you want, I don't use social networks so stay tuned for updates.

Chapter 2 Summary:

Love your comments, thanks and thanks for the kudos!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Maya's Pov

I have three cars. They go fast all over the floor. Very fast. One is red. One is green. One is yellow. I like the green one. It's the best. Mommy likes them too. I like when Mommy plays with me and the cars. The red one is the best for her. Today, she's sitting on the couch staring at the wall. The green car flies acVics the carpet. The red one follows. Then the yellow one. Crash! But Mommy doesn't see. I do it again. Crash! But Mommy doesn't see. I point at the green car at her feet. But the green car goes under the couch. I can't reach it. My hand is too big for the hole. Mommy doesn't see. I want my green car. But Mommy stays on the couch staring at the wall. Mommy. My car. She doesn't hear me. Mommy. I push at her hand and she lies back and closes her eyes. Not now, Maya. Not now, she says. My green car stays under the couch. It's always under the couch. I can see it. But I can't reach it. My green car is blurry. Covered in gray fur and dirt. I want it back. But I can't reach it. I can never reach it. My green car is lost. Lost. And I can never play with it again.

I open my eyes and my dream fades into the morning light. What the hell was that about? I grasp the fragments as they fade, but fail to catch any of them. Discarding it, as I do most mornings, I climb out of bed and find a freshly laundered sweatshirt in my dresser. Outside, a grayish sky promises rain, and I'm in no mood to welcome it during my run today. I head upstairs to the gym, turn on the TV for the morning business news, and hop on the treadmill. My thoughts wander to the day. I have no more meetings, though I'll see my personal trainer later for a workout at my office; Bastille is always a welcome challenge. Maybe I should call Elena? Yes. Maybe. We can have dinner later this week. I stop the treadmill, breathless, and head for the shower to begin another monotonous day.

- “Tomorrow,” I murmur, dismissing Claude Bastille as he stands in the doorway of my office.

- “Bishop, are we playing golf this week?” Bastille smiles with a relaxed arrogance, knowing his victory on the golf course is assured. I frown at him as he turns and walks away. His parting words are like salt in my wounds because, despite my heroic attempts during our workout today, my personal trainer kicked my ass. Bastille is the only one who can beat me, and now he wants another piece of meat on the golf course. I hate golf, but a lot of business is done on the fairways, so I have to suffer their lessons there too… and, though I hate to admit it, playing against Bastille does improve my game. As I stare out the window at the Seattle skyline, the familiar ennui seeps unbidden into my subconscious. My mood is as flat and gray as the weather. My days are blending indistinctly, and I need some kind of diversion. I've worked all weekend, and now, in the adjoining confines of my office, I'm fretting. I shouldn't feel this way, not after several run-ins with Bastille. But I do. I frown. The sobering truth is that the only thing that's captured my interest recently has been my decision to send two cargo ships to Sudan. This reminds me that Vic is supposed to get back to me with numbers and logistics. What the heck is taking her? I check my calendar and reach for my pone, Damn. I have to sit through an-interview with the persistent Ms. Aurora for the Washington State University student magazine. Why the hell did I agree to this? I hate interviews—pointless questions from uninformed and jealous people aimed at digging into my private life. And she's a student.

The phone vibrates. "Yes," I yell at Andrea, as if I could blame her. At least I can keep this interview short.

- Miss Carina DeLuca is here to see you, Mrs. Bishop.

- “DeLuca?” I was expecting Gabriella Aurora.

-It’s Miss DeLuca here, ma’am. I hate the unexpected.

-“Send her in.” Well, well… Miss Aurora isn’t available. I know her father, Eamon, the owner of Aurora Media. We’ve done business together, and he seems like a shrewd operator and a rational human being. This interview is a favor to him, one I intend to collect later, at my convenience. And, I have to admit, I was vaguely curious about his daughter, interested in seeing the apple that fell far from the tree.

A commotion at the door brings me to my feet as a tangle of long brunette hair, pale limbs, and brown boots plunges into my office. Suppressing my natural annoyance at clumsiness, I hurry over to the girl, who’s landed on her hands and knees on the floor. Grasping slender shoulders, I help her to her feet. Clear, embarrassed eyes find mine and stop them moving. They're the most extraordinary color, powdery brown, innocent, and for a horrible moment, I think she can see right through me and I'm… exposed… The thought is disconcerting, so I dismiss it immediately. She has a sweet little face that's blushing now, an innocent pale pink. I wonder briefly if all her skin is this perfect and how it would look pink and warm from a cane lashing. Damn. I stop my wayward thoughts, alarmed by their direction. What the hell are you thinking, Bishop? This girl is too young. Her mouth falls open, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Yes, yes, Beautiful, it's just a face and it's just skin. I need to dispel that admiring look from those eyes, but let's have some fun in the process!

—Miss Aurora. This is Maya Bishop. Are you okay? Would you like to sit down? There's that blush again. In charge once more, I study her. She's very attractive… slight, pale, with a shock of brunette hair barely contained by a bun. A brunette. Yes, she's attractive. I extend my hand as she stammers out the beginnings of a mortified apology, and she puts her hand in mine. Her skin is cool and smooth, but her grip is surprisingly firm. "Miss Aurora is under the weather, so she sent me. I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Bishop." Her voice is calm with a dubious musicality, and she blinks erratically, long eyelashes fluttering. Unable to keep the amusement out of my voice as I recall her inelegant entrance to my office, I ask who she is. "Carina DeLuca. I'm studying English Lit with Gabriella, I mean…" Gabriellay… well… Miss Aurora, at Washington State, Vancouver Campus.

The shy, studious type, huh? She seems like it: poorly dressed, her slight silhouette hidden beneath a shapeless sweater, a brown A-line skirt, and utilitarian boots. Does she have any sense of style? She glances nervously around my office—anywhere but at me, I notice, with amused irony. How can that young woman be a journalist? She doesn't have a single sign of assertiveness in her body. She's nervous, docile… submissive. Puzzled by my inappropriate thoughts, I shake my head and wonder if first impressions can be trusted. Cliché aside, I ask her to sit down, then notice her discerning gaze assessing the paintings in my office. Before I can stop myself, I find myself explaining it: "An artist here. Trouton." "They're very beautiful. They elevate the everyday to the extraordinary," she says dreamily, lost in the exquisite, fine craftsmanship of Trouton's work. Her profile is delicate, with a pert nose and soft, full lips, and in her words she has captured my exact feelings. They elevate the everyday to the extraordinary. It's an astute observation.

Miss DeLuca is brilliant. I agree and watch, fascinated, as the blush slowly creeps up her skin once more. As I sit on the other side of her, I try to slow my thoughts. She pulls some crumpled sheets of paper and a digital recorder from her large bag. She's clumsy, dropping the damn thing twice on my Bauhaus coffee table. It's obvious she's never done this before, but for some reason I can't fathom, I find it amusing. Under normal circumstances, her clumsiness would irritate the hell out of me, but now, I hide a smile beneath my index finger and resist the urge to adjust her myself. As she fumbles and grows more and more agitated, it occurs to me that she could refine her motor skills with the help of a riding crop. Expertly wielded, it can control the most fidgety. The wandering thought makes me shift in my chair. She looks at me and bites her plump upper lip. Damn! How did I not notice how provocative that mouth is? "Sorry, I don't usually use it." I can see that, beautiful, but right now I don't give a damn because I can't take my eyes off your mouth.

-"Take all the time you need, Miss DeLuca." "I need another moment to gather my stubborn thoughts." Bishop… stop this, now. “

-Do you mind if I record your answers?” she asks, her face candid and expectant. I want to laugh.

-“You’re asking me now, after all the trouble you went through to set up the recorder?” she blinks, her eyes wide and lost for a moment, and I’m overcome by the unfamiliar feeling of guilt. Stop being such a shit, Bishop. “No, I don’t care.” “I don’t want to be responsible for that look.”

-“Did Gabriella—I mean, Miss Aurora—explain what the interview was for?”

-“Yes. For this year’s final issue of the faculty magazine, because I’ll be handing out degrees at this year’s commencement ceremony.” “Why the hell I agreed to do that, I don’t know.” Ryder in Public Relations tells me that Washington State's environmental science department needs the publicity to attract additional funding to supplement what I've given them, and Ryder will do anything for press exposure. Miss DeLuca blinks once more, as if this is news to her, and she looks disapproving. Haven't you done any pre-studying for this interview? I should know. The thought makes my blood run cold. It's… unpleasant, not something I expect from someone taking advantage of my time.

-"Good. I have a few questions, Mrs. Bishop." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, distracting me from my annoyance.

-"Yes, I think you should ask me something," I say tersely. Let's make her flinch. Judiciously, she does, then straightens and squares her small shoulders. She's in professional mode. Leaning forward, she presses the start button on the recorder and frowns down at her crumpled notes.

-"You're very young to have amassed this empire." To what do you owe your success? Surely you can do better than this.

What a silly question. Not a shred of originality. It's disappointing.

- I launch into my usual retort about having exceptional people working for me. People I trust, if I trust anyone at all, and I pay them well, blah blah blah… but, Miss DeLuca, the simple fact is that I am brilliant at what I do. For me, it's like splitting a log. Buying broken, badly run companies and fixing them, keeping some or, if they're truly bankrupt, stripping down their assets and selling them to the highest bidder. It's simply a matter of knowing the difference between the two, and it invariably comes down to the people in charge. To succeed in business, you need good people, and I can judge a person better than most.

-"Perhaps you've just been lucky," she says quietly. A shudder of annoyance runs through me. Lucky? How dare she? She looks modest and calm, but this question? No one has ever suggested that I've been lucky. I work hard, I bring people with me, I keep a close eye on them, and I study them if I need to, and if they're not good for the job, I discard them. This is what I do, and I do it well. It has nothing to do with luck! Well,To hell with that. Showing off my erudition, I quote Andrew Carnegie, my favorite industrialist.

-“The growth and development of people is the most important job of management.”

-“You sound like a control freak,” she says, and she means it perfectly. What the hell? Maybe she can see right through me. “Control” is my middle name, honey. I stare at her, hoping to intimidate her.

-“Oh, well, I control everything, Miss DeLuca.” “And I’d like to control you, right here, right now.” That alluring blush of her face, and she bites that lip again. I digress, trying to distract myself from her mouth. - Also, telling yourself, in your heart of hearts, that you were born to be in control gives you immense power.”

-“Do you find your power immense?” she asks in a soft, reassuring voice, but she raises a delicate eyebrow in a look that expresses her censure. Is she deliberately trying to provoke me? Is it your questions, your attitude, or the fact that I find you attractive that's bothering me? My irritation grows.

-“I have over 40,000 employees. That gives me a certain sense of responsibility… power, if you will. If I decided I was no longer interested in the telecommunications business and sold everything, 20,000 people would be struggling to pay their mortgages in little over a month.” Her mouth drops open at my answer. That's more as it should be. Suck it up, Beautiful. I feel my equilibrium returning.

- “Don't you have a board of directors to answer to?”

-“I own my company. I don't have a board of directors to answer to.”

- “And what are your interests outside of work?” she continues hastily, correctly gauging my reaction. She knows I'm angry, and for some inexplicable reason, this pleases me.

-“I'm interested in a wide variety of things, Miss DeLuca. A wide variety of things.” —Images of her in various positions in my playroom flash through my mind: chained to the cVics, spread out on the four-poster bed, spread out on the spanking bench. And, look, there's that blush again. It's like a defense mechanism. Those words coming out of her intelligent mouth sound strange, but fun. Besides, when do I have time to relax? She has no idea what I do.

But she looks at me again with those wide, ingenious eyes, and to my surprise, I find myself considering her question. What do I do to relax? Sail, fly, fuck… test the limits of attractive brunettes like her and make them obey… the thought makes me shift in my chair, but I answer gently, omitting a few favorite pastimes.

-“Invest in manufacturing.” Why, specifically? “I like building. I like knowing how things work, what their mechanism is, how they’re put together and taken apart. And I love ships. What can I tell her? “They transport food around the planet.

-” It seems her heart is speaking, not logic or facts. Heart? Me? Oh, no, beautiful. My heart was shattered beyond recognition a long time ago.

-“It’s possible.” Although some would say I'm heartless.

-"Why would they say something like that?"

-"Because they know me well." I give her a wry smile. In fact, no one knows me that well, except maybe Elena?. I wonder what she'd do with little Miss DeLuca here. This girl is a mass of contradictions: shy, awkward, obviously brilliant, and exciting as hell. Yes, all right, I'll admit it. I find her alluring." She recites the next question by repetition.

-"Would your friends say you're easy to get to know?"

-"I'm a very private person, Miss DeLuca. I go to great lengths to protect my private life. I don't usually give interviews." "Doing what I do, living the life I've chosen, I need my privacy."

-"Why did you agree to this one?"

-"Because I'm a patron of the university, and because, try as I might, I couldn't get Miss Aurora off my back. She kept pestering my PR, and I admire that tenacity." “But I'm glad it was you who came and not her.”

-“You also invests in agricultural technology. Why are you interested in this area?”

-“You can't eat money, Miss DeLuca, and there are too many people in the world who don't have anything to eat.” I stare at her, poker-faced.

-“You sound very philanthropic. Are you passionate about the idea of feeding the world's poor?” She regards me with a puzzled look, as if I'm an enigma, but there's no way I'm letting her see into my dark soul. This isn't an area for open discussion. Turn the page, Bishop.

-“It's good business,” I murmur, feigning boredom, and imagine fucking that mouth to distract myself from all thoughts of hunger. Yes, her mouth needs training, and I imagine her on her knees before me. Well, that's an interesting thought. She recites the next question, dragging me out of my fantasy.

-“Do you have a philosophy? And if so, what is it?”

-I don't have a philosophy as such. Perhaps a guiding principle… from Carnegie: “A person who gains absolute control over his own mind can take control of anything else for which he is legally authorized.” I'm very peculiar, very tenacious. I like control… of myself and those around me.

-So you want to own things? Yes, beautiful. You, for example. I frown, surprised by the thought.

-“I want to deserve to possess them, but yes, deep down that’s what it is.”

-“You sound like the epitome of a consumer.” Her voice is tinged with disapproval, irritating me again. “I am. She sounds like a rich kid who’s had everything she’s ever wanted, but when I look closely at her clothes, she’s dressed in pieces from some bargain store like Old Navy or H&M, so I know that’s not it. She didn’t grow up wealthy. She could take care of you. Where the hell did that come from? Although, now that I consider it, I do need a new submissive. It’s been what, months since Susannah? And here I am, salivating over this woman. I try to flash a pleasant smile. There’s nothing wrong with consumption; after all, it drives what’s left of the American economy.

-“You were an adopted child.” To what extent do you think it has influenced your personality? What does this have to do with the price of oil? What a ridiculous question. If I had kept the drug-addicted dog, I'd probably be dead. I dismiss her with a "no answer," trying to maintain my voice, but she presses me, demanding to know how old I was when I was adopted. Shut her up, Bishop! My tone is cold.

-Everyone knows that, Miss DeLuca. You should know this, too. Now she looks contrite as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Good.

-You've had to sacrifice your family life for work.

- “That’s not a question,” I snap. She’s surprised, clearly embarrassed, but has the grace to apologize as she rephrases the question.

-“Have you had to sacrifice your family life for work? What do I want with a family?”

-“I have a family. A brother, a sister, and parents who love me. But I’m not interested in talking about my family anymore.”

“Are you gay, Mrs. Bishop? What the hell?! I can’t believe she just said that out loud! Ironically, it’s a question even my own family wouldn’t do—well, they already know, I told them myself. and of course they know that I am intersex, that I was born that way...at first I was confused but now I value my body and I am a determined woman who has the best of both worlds. But how dare she! I have a sudden urge to drag her out of her seat, put her over my knee, spank her, and then fuck her over my desk with her hands tied behind her back. That would answer her stupid question. I take a deep breath to steady myself. To my vindictive enjoyment, she seems mortified by her own question.

“Yes, Carina, I'm gay…intersex, Do you want me to explain that too? I raise my eyebrows, but keep my expression impassive. Carina. It's a lovely name. I like the way my tongue curls when I say it.

-“I apologize. It's… Well… It's written here.” She does that thing with her hair behind her ear again. It's obviously a nervous habit.

-“Aren't these your questions?” I ask her, and she blanches. Damn, she's really attractive, in an understated way.

-“Well… no. Gabriella… Miss Aurora… gave me a list.”

-“Are you colleagues from the faculty magazine?”

-“No. She’s my roommate.” No wonder she’s so nervous. I scratch my chin, debating whether or not to give her a hard time.

-“Have you volunteered to do this interview?” I ask, and am rewarded with her submissive look: she’s nervous about my reaction. I like the effect I have on her.

- “She asked me to. She’s not feeling well.” Her voice is soft.

“This explains a lot.” There’s a knock at the door and Andrea appears.

-“Ms. Bishop, sorry to interrupt, but your next meeting is in two minutes.”

-“We’re not finished, Andrea. Please cancel my next meeting.” Andrea gapes at what I said, confused. I stare at her.

-“Out! Now!” I'm busy with Miss DeLuca here.

-"Very well, Mrs. Bishop," she says, quickly recovering and turning on her heel to leave us alone again. I return my attention to the scheming and frustrating creature on my sofa.

-"Where were we, Miss DeLuca?"

- "I wouldn't want to interrupt your duties. Oh, no, beautiful. It's my turn now. I want to know if there are secrets to be revealed beneath that adorable face."

- "I want to know about you. I think it's only fair." As I lean back and press my fingers to my lips, her eyes flash to my mouth and she swallows. Oh yes, the usual effect. And it's gratifying to know she's not completely unaffected by my charms.

-"Not much to know," she says, her blush returning. I'm intimidating her.

-"What are your plans after graduation?"

-"I haven't made any plans, Mrs. Bishop. I have to pass my finals."

-"We have an excellent internship program here. What possessed me to say this? It's against the rules, Bishop." Never fuck the staff… But you're not fucking this girl. She looks shocked, and her teeth jump over that lip again. Why is that such a turn-on? Easy, my friend…

-“Oh, I'll keep that in mind,” she replies. “Although I don't think I'd fit in here.”

-“Why do you say that?” I ask. What's wrong with my company?

-“It's obvious, isn't it?”

-“Not to me.” I'm confused by her answer. She's flustered once again as she reaches for the recorder. Shit, she's leaving. Mentally, I check my schedule for this afternoon. There's nothing that can't wait.

- “Would you like me to show you the building?”

- “I'm sure you're very busy, Mrs. Bishop, and I have a long drive.”

-“Are you driving back to Vancouver?” I peer out the window. It's a hell of a drive, and it's raining. She shouldn't be driving in this weather, but I can't forbid her. The thought irritates me.

-“Well, drive carefully.” My voice is sterner than I intend. She fumbles with the recorder. She wants to leave my office, and to my surprise, I don't want her to.

-"Have you asked me everything you need?" I ask her in a transparent effort to prolong her stay.

-"Yes, ma'am," she says calmly. Her answer astounds me, the way those words sound coming from that intelligent mouth and for a moment I imagine that mouth at my complete disposal, on her knees, giving me a good blowjob.

- “Thank you for the interview, Mrs. Bishop.”

- “It was a pleasure,” I reply, very seriously, because I haven’t been this fascinated by anyone in a while. The thought is disconcerting. She stands, and I reach out, eager to touch her.

-“Until next time, Miss DeLuca.” My voice is low as she places her hand over mine. “Yes, I want to spank and fuck this girl in my playroom. Have her tied up and needy… needing me, trusting me.” I swallow. “It’s not happening, Bishop.”

-“Mrs. Bishop.” She nods and pulls her hand back quickly, very quickly. I can’t let her go like this. It’s obvious she’s desperate to leave. It's irritating, but inspiration strikes when I open my office door.

- “Make sure you step through the door on the right foot, Miss DeLuca,” I tease. Her lips form a hard line.

- “Very kind, Mrs. Bishop,” she snaps. Miss DeLuca is a mouthy girl! I smile behind her as she leaves and follow her out. Andrea and Olivia both look up in surprise. Yes, yes. I just watch the girl leave.

- “Did you bring a coat?” I ask.

-“Jacket.” I glance at Olivia, and she immediately jumps up to retrieve a navy blazer, passing it to me with her usual dopey expression. Christ, Olivia is annoying, daydreaming about me all the time. Hmm. The jacket is worn and cheap. Miss Carina DeLuca should be better dressed. I hold it for her as I arrange it on her slender shoulders, touch her skin at the base of her neck. She stills at the contact and blanches. Yes! She's affected by me. The knowledge is immensely pleasurable. Approaching the elevator, I press the call button as she fidgets beside me. Oh, I could stop your movements, beautiful. The doors open and she slinks out, then turns to face me. She's beyond attractive. I would go so far as to say she's beautiful.

- "Carina," I say, by way of parting.

- "Maya," she replies, her voice soft.

And the elevator doors close, leaving my name hanging in the air between us, sounding odd and unfamiliar, but sensual as hell. I need to know more about this girl.

-"Andrea," I bark as I walk back to my office.

-"Put Welch on the line now." As I sit at my desk and wait for the call, I look at the pictures on my office wall and Miss DeLuca's words come back to me. "They elevate the everyday to the extraordinary." She could have easily been describing herself. My phone rings.

- "I have Mr. Welch on the line for you."

- "Put him through."

- "Yes, ma'am."

- "Welch, I need a background check."

Notes:

Hello! I re-open an X acc so if you like follow me for more updates. Find me like : @IloveSpampi
There will only be a few chapters of Maya's POV because the story is told from Carina's POV.
I have decided that I will leave some names as in the original book...is that ok? especially the parents of both, I accept suggestions.

Chapter 3 Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

My heart beats very fast. The elevator arrives on the first floor and I step out as soon as the doors open. I stumble, but luckily I don't bump my face against the immaculate stone floor. I run to the large glass doors and finally step out into the invigorating, clean, humid Seamos air. I lift my face and am grateful for the rain, which refreshes me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, let the air purify me and try to regain what little serenity I have left.

No person has ever struck me like Maya Bishop and I don't understand why. Because she's beautiful? Educated? Rich? Powerful? I don't understand my irrational reaction. I sigh deeply relieved. What the hell is this story about? I lean against a steel column of the building and make a great effort to calm myself and collect my thoughts. I shake my head slightly - what happened? My heart regains its usual rhythm and I can breathe normally again. I head for the car.

I leave the city behind, mentally reviewing the interview and start to feel idiotic and embarrassed. I'm sure I'm overreacting to something that only exists in my head. Granted, she's very attractive, confident, dominant and comfortable with herself, but on the other hand she's arrogant and, as impeccable as her manners are, she's dictatorial and cold. Well, at first glance. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. She may be arrogant, but she's entitled to serious, because she's achieved great things and she's still very young. She can't stand jerks, but why should she? I get angry again at the thought that Gabriella didn't provide me with a brief biography.

As I recalled Interstate 5, my mind keeps wandering. It truly perplexes me that there are people so intent on succeeding. Some of her answers have been very judgmental, as if she has a hidden agenda. And Gabriella's questions...phew! The adoption and if she was... It makes my hair stand on end. I can't believe I asked her something like that. Earth, swallow me! From now on, every time I remember this question I will die of embarrassment. Damn Gabriella Aurora!

I glance at the speedometer. I drive more cautiously than usual, and I know it's because I have in mind those piercing blue eyes looking at me and a serious voice telling me to drive carefully. I shake my head and realize Bishop looks twice as old as she is. Forgotten, Carina, I scold myself. I conclude that, deep down, it's been a very interesting experience, but I shouldn't give it any more thought. Let it go. I don't have to see her again. I turn on the radio, turn up the volume, lean back and listen to the indie rock beat as I floor the accelerator. As I cruise down Interstate 5 I realize I can drive as fast as I want. We live in a small community of semi-detached houses near the campus of Washington State University in Vancouver. I'm lucky, Gabriella's parents bought the house for her, so I pay a pittance in rent. We've lived here for four years.

I park the car knowing that Gabriella is going to want me to tell her everything in detail, and she's stubborn. Well, at least she has the recorder. I hope I don't have to add much more to what was said in the interview.

- Carina! There you are. - Gabriella is sitting in the living room, surrounded by books. She's clearly been studying for final exams, though she's still wearing the pink flannel bunny pajamas, the ones she reserves for when she's broken up with a boyfriend, for all sorts of illnesses, and for when she's generally depressed. She jumps up and runs to hug me.

-I was starting to worry. I thought you'd be back sooner.

-Well, I think it's too soon, considering the interview has dragged on.... - I give her the recorder.

-Carina, thank you so much. I owe you one, I know. How did it go? What's it like?

Oh, no, we're already with the saintly inquisitor Gabriella Aurora. I'm having trouble answering her. What can I say?

-I'm glad it's over and I'm glad I don't have to see her again. She's been pretty intimidating, actually. - I shrug. - She's very focused, intense even... and young. Very young.

Gabriella looks at me with a candid expression. I frown.

-Why didn't you pass me a biography? You've made me feel like an idiot for not having a clue.

Gabriella puts a hand to her mouth. -Wow, Carina, I'm sorry... I didn't think.

I snort.

-In general she's been polite, formal and a little stuffy, like a precocious old woman. She doesn't talk like a twenty-something. By the way, how old is she?

- Twenty-seven. Carina, I'm sorry. I should have told you a little bit, but I was so nervous. Well, I'll take the recorder and start transcribing the interview.

-You seem to be feeling better. Have you had your soup? - I ask to change the subject.

-Yes, and it was delicious, as always. I feel much better.

She smiles gratefully at me. I look at my watch.

-I hurry off. I think I'm on my shift at Clayton's.

-Carina, you must be exhausted.

-I'm fine. I'll see you later.

I've been working at Clayton's since I started college, four years ago. As the largest hardware store in the Portland area, I've come to know quite a bit about the items we sell, although, paradoxically, I suck at DIY. I leave that to my dad. I'm glad I'm on time, because then I'll have something to think about other than Maya Bishop. We have a lot of work to do. Since the summer season has just started, everyone is redecorating their homes. Mrs. Clayton looks relieved to see me.

- Carina! I thought you weren't coming today.

-The appointment lasted less than I thought it would. I can do a couple of hours.

-I'm so glad to see you.

She sends me to the warehouse to restock shelves, and it doesn't take me long to focus on my work.

Later, when I return home, Gabriella is wearing headphones and working on her laptop. Her nose is still red, but she's deep into her article, concentrating hard and typing frantically. I'm exhausted, exhausted from the long drive, from the tough interview and from not having stopped back and forth at Clayton's. I plop down on the couch thinking, "I'm so tired. I plop down on the couch thinking about the college work I have to finish and how I haven't been able to study at all because I was with... her.

- What you brought me is great, Carina. You've done very well. I can't believe you didn't take her up on her offer to show you around the building. She clearly wanted to spend more time with you.

She shoots me a fleeting mocking glance.
I blush and inexplicably my heartbeat quickens.
I'm sure that's not why. She just wanted to show me around the building so I could see that she was the mistress and mistress of it all. I'm aware that I'm biting my lip and trust Gabriella not to notice, but my friend seems to be concentrating on the transcript.

-I see what you mean about formal. Did you take notes? -she asks.

- Mmm... No.

-That's all right. What's there is enough for a good article. Too bad we don't have our own pictures. The bitch is hot, isn't she?

I blush.

-I guess. - I'm trying to make it seem like I don't care, and I think I succeed.

-Come on, Carina... Even you can't be immune to her attractiveness.

She looks at me and raises a perfect eyebrow.
Oh, shit! I feel my cheeks burning, so I distract her by sucking up to her, which always works.

-Surely you would have gotten a lot more out of her.

-I doubt it, Carina. Come on... she almost offered you a job. Considering I foisted it on you at the last minute, you've done very well.

She looks at me questioningly. I scurry back to the kitchen.

-Tell me, what did you think of her?

Damn, she keeps asking. Why doesn't she just drop it? Think of something, quickly.

-She's very tenacious, controlling and arrogant... She's scary, but she's very charismatic. I understand that she can be fascinating," I tell her sincerely in the hope that she will shut up once and for all.

- You, fascinated by a woman? What a novelty," she says with a laugh.

Since I'm making myself a sandwich, she can't see my face.

- Why did you want to know if she was gay? By the way, that was the most awkward question. I almost died of embarrassment, and she was annoyed that I asked.

I frown at the memory.

- I just wanted to know...besides she is uhmm.

- Yeah, Gabriella...intersex. It was the most embarrassing thing I could ask her, that's private.

- But not to her, because she said so.

- Still...It's been awkward. Everything has been awkward. I'm glad I don't have to see her again.

- Come on, Carina, it can't have gone that badly. I think she liked you very much. I think she really liked you.

She liked me? Gabriella freaks out.

- Would you like a sandwich?

-Yes, please.

For my peace of mind, we don't talk about Maya Bishop anymore tonight. After lunch I can sit at the dining room table with Gabriella and, while she works on her article, I continue my work on Tess of the d'Urbervilles. Damn it. This woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong century. By the time I finish it is twelve o'clock at night and Gabriella has long since gone to sleep. I go to my room exhausted, but glad to have worked so hard for a Monday.

I crawl into my white iron bed, wrap myself in my mother's quilt, close my eyes and fall asleep instantly. I dream of dark places, white floors, bleak and cold, and blue eyes.

The rest of the week I immerse myself in my studies and my work at Clayton's. Gabriella is also busy organizing her last edition of the faculty magazine before handing over to the new manager, and she is also studying for exams. By Wednesday she is feeling much better and I no longer have to endure the sight of her pink flannel pajamas full of bunnies. I call my mother, who lives in Georgia, to see how she is doing and to wish me luck on the exams.
She starts telling me about her latest adventure: she's learning to make candles. My mother spends her life starting new businesses. She's basically bored and needs to do whatever she can to occupy her time, but it's impossible for her to focus on anything for very long. Next week will be something else. I am worried about her. I hope she hasn't mortgaged the house to finance this latest project. And I hope Bob - her relatively new husband, even though he's much older than she is - will check on her a bit now that I'm no longer at home. He seems much more responsible than husband number three.

- How's everything going, Carina?

I hesitate for a second, and my mother turns her full attention to me.

-Fine.

- Carina? Have you met any girls or boys?

Ugh, how could she even think of that? She's obviously excited, and she knows I'm attracted to boys and girls.

-No, Mom, it's okay. If I meet a boy or girl, you'll be the first to know.

-Carina, honey, you need to get out more. I'm worried about you.

-Mom, I'm fine. How's Bob?

As always, the best tactic is distraction. Later that night, I call Ray, my stepfather, my mother's husband number two, the man I consider my father and whose last name I carry. The conversation is brief. Actually, it's not even a conversation, but a series of grunts in response to my discreet attempts. Ray is not much of a talker. But he's very active, still watching soccer on TV (and when he's not watching soccer, he's bowling, fishing, or making furniture). Ray is a good carpenter, and thanks to him I know a putty knife from a handsaw. Everything seems to be going well for him.

Friday night Gabriella and I are discussing what to do - we want to take a break from studying, work and faculty magazines - when there's a knock at the door.

On the front steps is my good friend Arizona with a bottle of champagne in her hands.

- Arizona, it's so good to see you! - I hug her.

Arizona is the first person I met when I came to college, and she seemed as lost and lonely as I was, and we've been friends ever since. Not only do we share a sense of humor, but we found out that Ray and Arizona's father were in the military together, and from there our parents became close friends as well.

Arizona is an engineering major. She's the first in her family to go to college. She's a bright girl, but her real passion is photography. She has a great eye for taking pictures.

-I have good news," she says, smiling with her bright eyes.

-Don't tell me: you've managed not to get fired this week, too..." I joke. She mockingly pretends to pout at me.

-The Portland Place Gallery is exhibiting my photos next month.

-Unbelievable... Congratulations!

I'm so happy for her and hug her again. Gabriella smiles at me too.

- Good job, Arizona! I'll have to include it in the magazine. I can't think of anything better for a Friday night than making last minute editorial changes," Gabriella says with a laugh.

-Let's celebrate. I want you to come to the opening. - Arizona glares at me - Both of you, of course," she adds, glancing nervously at Gabri.

Arizona and I are good friends, but deep down I know she wishes we were something more. She's cute and funny, but I don't see her that way, she's more like the sister I never had. Gabriella often teases me by telling me that I lack the boyfriend/girlfriend gene, but the truth is that I haven't met anyone that... well, anyone that I'm attracted to, even though part of me wants my legs to shake, my heart to soar and feel butterflies in my stomach. Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me. Maybe I've devoted too much time to my romantic literary heroes, and that's why my ideals and expectations are excessively high. But in real life no one has ever made me feel that way. Until very recently, murmurs the unwelcome little voice in my subconscious. NO! I immediately banish the idea. I'm not going to consider it, not after that painful interview. "Are you gay, Mrs. Bishop?" I shudder at the memory. I know I've dreamed about her almost every night since, but surely it's because I need to purge the dreadful experience from my head.

I watch Arizona open the bottle of champagne. Yes, Arizona is pretty, but I think she's finally getting the message: we're just friends. The cork pops, and Arizona looks up and smiles.

Saturday is a nightmare at the store. We're swarmed by handymen who want to spruce up their house. Mr. and Mrs. Clayton, John, Patrick - the other two employees - and I spend the day serving customers. But at noon it calms down a bit, and as I sit behind the checkout counter, discreetly eating my sandwich, Mrs. Clayton asks me to check on some orders. I concentrate on the task, check that the catalog numbers of the items we need match the ones we've ordered, and glance from the order book to the computer screen and back again to make sure the entries match. Suddenly, I don't know why, I look up... and am caught in the unabashed blue gaze of Maya Bishop staring at me from across the counter.

I almost had a heart attack.

-Miss DeLuca, what a pleasant surprise," she says. Her gaze is steady and intense.

Damn, what the hell is she doing here, all combed out in a cream-colored dress and high-heeled boots? I think my jaw drops, and I can't find my brain or my voice.

-Mrs. Bishop," I murmur, because I can't do anything else.

Her lips quirk into a smile and her eyes look amused, as if she's enjoying some joke I don't know about.

-I was just passing by," she says by way of explanation, "I need some things. It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss DeLuca.

Her voice is warm and husky like a chocolate and caramel bonbon... or something like that. I shake my head trying to come down from the clouds. My heart pounds in my chest at a frantic pace, and for some reason my cheeks burn at her steady scrutinizing gaze. Seeing her in front of me has left me totally bewildered. My memories of her have not done her justice. She's not just pretty, no. She is feminine beauty personified, ravishing, and she's here at Clayton's.

I finally regain my cognitive functions and reconnect with the rest of my body.

-Carina. My name is Carina," I murmur. - How can I help you, Mrs. Bishop?

She smiles, and again it's as if she's privy to some great secret. It's very disconcerting. I take a deep breath and put on my four-years-in-the-store-and-professional face. I can.

- I need a couple of things. For starters, cable ties," she mutters, her expression both cool and amused.

Cable ties?

- We have several sizes. Would you like me to show it to you? - I whisper in a hesitant voice. Calm down, DeLuca. A slight frown mars Bishop's eyebrows, which are quite nice.

-Yes, please. I'll walk you out, Miss DeLuca," she says.

I step out from behind the counter feigning nonchalance, but the truth is I'm concentrating as hard as I can not to collapse. Suddenly my legs feel like plasticine. I'm so glad I decided to wear my best jeans this morning.

-They're with the electrical supplies in aisle number eight," I tell her in a tone of voice that's too high.

I look at her and regret it almost immediately. How beautiful she is!

-I follow you," she murmurs, gesturing with her long-fingered hand and perfectly manicured nails.

With my heart almost strangling me - because it has risen up into my throat and is trying to spill out of my mouth - I step into an aisle toward the electrical section. Why is she in Portland? Why has she come to Clayton's? And from a tiny part of my brain that I barely use - probably below the medulla oblongata, near where my subconscious dwells - an idea pops into my head: She's here to see you. Impossible! Why would this beautiful, powerful, sophisticated woman want to see me? It's an absurd idea, so I put it out of my mind.

- Are you here in Portland on business? -I ask.

My voice sounds too high-pitched, as if I've caught my finger in a door. Stop it! Try to calm down, Carina!

-I've gone to visit the university's agriculture department, which is in Vancouver. I'm currently funding research on crop rotation and soil science," she replies matter-of-factly.

You see? Not even close to coming to see you, my proud subconscious mocks loudly. I blush at the thought of the nonsense running through my head.

-Is it part of your plan to feed the world? -I provoke her.

- Something like that," she admits with a half-smile.

Take a look at our cable tie section. What does she want that for? What would she want that for? I can't imagine her doing DIY. She slides her fingers
fingers through the boxes on the shelf, and for some inexplicable reason I have to look away. She bends down and picks up a box.

-These will suit me," she says with a smile that makes her think she's keeping a secret.

- Anything else?

- I'd like some duct tape.

Duct tape?

-Are you decorating your house? - The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. -I'm sure you hire workers or have staff decorating it for you.

-No, I'm not decorating it," she answers quickly.

She smiles, and I get the strangest feeling that she's laughing at me. Am I that funny? Why am I so funny?

- This way," - I mutter uncomfortably. The ribbon is in the decorating aisle. I look back and see her following me.

-Have you been working here long? - she asks me quietly, staring at me.

I blush. Why the hell does she have this effect on me? I feel like a fourteen-year-old, awkward as usual, and out of place. Look straight ahead, DeLuca!

-Four years old," I mutter as we reach our destination.

For the sake of doing something, I reach down and grab the two sizes of duct tape we have.

-I'll take this one," Bishop says, gently tapping the roll of tape I hold out to her

Our fingers brush for a second, and there's the current again, coursing through me as if I've touched a loose wire. I gasp involuntarily as I feel it moving to some dark, unexplored place deep inside.
dark, unexplored place deep in my belly. I try desperately to compose myself.

-Anything else? -I ask in a hoarse, breathy voice.

Her eyes widen slightly.

-A bit of string. - Her voice, also hoarse, replies to mine.

-This way. - I duck my head to hide my blush and head down the hall.

-What kind of rope are you looking for? We have synthetic fiber, natural fiber, hemp, cable... I stop when I see her impenetrable expression. Her eyes look darker. Mother of God!

-Five meters of the natural fiber rope, please.

I quickly measure the rope with trembling fingers, aware of her burning blue gaze. I dare not look at her. I couldn't feel more self-conscious. I pull the box cutter out of my back pants pocket, cut the rope, coil it carefully and tie a knot. It's a miracle I managed not to amputate a finger with the box cutter.

-Did you go to scouts? -she asks me, pursing her sexy lips in amusement.

Don't look at her mouth!

-Group activities aren't my thing, Mrs. Bishop," she arches an eyebrow.

-What is your thing, Carina? -she asks me quietly and with her secret smile.

I look at her and feel unable to express myself. The ground is moving tectonic plates in movement. Try to calm down, Carina, pleads my tortured subconscious on her knees.

-The books," I whisper. But my subconscious screams: You! You are my thing! I immediately slap it away, ashamed of my mind's delusions of grandeur.
my mind's delusions of grandeur.

-What kind of books? - she asks me, cocking her head to one side.

Why is she so interested?

-Well, the usual. The classics. Especially English literature.

She rubs her chin with her index finger and thumb considering my answer. Or maybe she's just bored out of her mind and is trying to hide it.
to cover it up.

-Do you need anything else?

I have to change the subject... Those fingers on that face are captivating.

-I don't know. What would you recommend?

What would I recommend? I don't even know what you're going to do.

-Do-it-yourself?

She nods with a mocking look. I blush and my gaze moves to her tight dress she's wearing.

- Overalls," I reply.
I realize I'm no longer in control of what comes out of my mouth. She raises an eyebrow again, amused.

-You don't want your clothes to get ruined," I say, pointing to her dress.

-I can always take it off," she replies, smiling.

I feel my cheeks turning red again. They must look like the cover of the Communist Manifesto. Shut up. Shut the hell up.

-I'll take a overall. I won't ruin my clothes," she says coldly.

I try to push away the unwelcome image of her without a dress.

-Do you need anything else? I ask her in a high-pitched tone as I hold out a blue jumpsuit.

She doesn't answer my question.

-How's the article coming along?

Finally she asked me a normal question, without any hints or word games... A question that I can answer.
A question I can answer. I grab the question with both hands, as if it were a lifeline, and bet on sincerity.

-I'm not writing it myself, but Gabriella. Miss Aurora, my roommate. She's very happy, she's the editor of the magazine, and she was devastated that I couldn't interview her personally. -I feel like I'm back on track, finally a normal topic of conversation. - The only thing that worries her is that she doesn't have any original photos of herself.

-What kind of photographs does she want?

Very good. I hadn't anticipated this answer. I shake my head, because I simply don't know.

-Well, I'll be around. Maybe tomorrow...

-Would you be willing to do a photo shoot? My voice comes out of my mouth again.

Gabriella will be thrilled if I make it. And you can see her again tomorrow, she whispers to me seductively from that dark place at the back of my brain. I dismiss the idea. It's stupid, ridiculous...

-Gabriella will be delighted... if we can find a photographer.

I'm so happy that I smile openly at her. She opens her lips, as if to take a deep breath, and blinks. For a millisecond she looks a little lost, the earth shifts slightly on its axis and the tectonic plates slide into a new position. My God! Maya Bishop's blank stare.

-Tell me something tomorrow," she says, reaching into her handbag, - My card. There's my cell phone number. She would have to call me before ten o'clock in the morning.

-Very well," I reply, smiling.

Gabriella will be thrilled.

-Carina!

Nattie appears across the hall. She is Mr. Clayton's younger sister. I'd heard she was back from Princeton, but I didn't expect to see her today.

-Excuse me a moment, Mrs. Bishop.

Bishop frowns as I turn away. Nattie has always been a friend, and in this strange moment when I'm dealing with the rich, powerful, stunningly attractive, and controllingly obsessive Bishop, I'm happy to talk to someone normal. Nattie hugs me very tightly, and catches me by surprise.

-Carina, it's so good to see you! -she exclaims.

-Hi, Nattie. How are you? Are you here for your brother's birthday?

-Yes. You look very pretty, Carina, very pretty.
She smiles and steps back a little to look at me. Then she lets go of me, but leaves a possessive arm around my shoulders. I pull away a little, uncomfortable. I'm glad to see Nattie, but she always takes too much confidence.

When I look at Maya Bishop, I see her watching us intently, with impenetrable, thoughtful eyes and a serious, impassive expression. She is no longer the strangely attentive client and is now someone else... someone cold and distant.

-Nattie, I'm with a client. You need to meet her," I say, trying to soften the animosity I see in Bishop's expression. I pull Nattie over to where Bishop is standing, and the two of them stare at each other, the air could be cut with a knife.

-Nattie, this is Maya Bishop. Mrs. Bishop, this is Nattie Clayton, the sister of the store owner. -And for some incomprehensible reason, I feel I must explain further.

-I've known Nattie since I've worked here, although we don't see each other very often. She's back from Princeton, where she's studying business administration. - I'm talking nonsense... Stop it!

-Mrs. Clayton.

Maya holds out her hand with an impenetrable gaze.

-Mrs. Bishop," Nattie shakes her hand, "Wait... Not the famous Maya Bishop? The one from Bishop Enterprises Holdings?

Nattie goes from cool to dazzled in a millisecond. Bishop gives her a polite smile.

-Wow... Can I help you with something?

- Carina took care of it, Mrs. Clayton. She has been very attentive.

Her expression is impassive, but her words... it's as if she's saying something else entirely. It's disconcerting.

-Great," Nattie replies, "See you later, Carina.

-Sure, Nattie.

I watch her disappear into the storeroom.

-Anything else, Mrs. Bishop?

-Nothing else.

Her tone is distant and cold. Damn it... Have I offended her? I take a deep breath, turn around and head for the cash register. What's wrong with her now? I mark the price of the rope, overalls, duct tape and cable ties.

- That'll be forty-three dollars, please.

I look at Bishop, but immediately regret it. She's staring at me. She's getting on my nerves.

-Would you like a bag? -I ask, taking her credit card.

-Yes, thank you, Carina.

Her tongue caresses my name, and my heart skips a beat. I can barely breathe. I hastily stuff what she has bought into a plastic bag.

-You'll call me if you want me to do the photo shoot.

She's back to being the businesswoman. I nod, because again I'm speechless, and hand her back the credit card. I nod, because I'm speechless again, and hand her back the credit card.

- See you tomorrow, maybe.

She turns to leave, but stops.

- Oh, one thing, Carina... I'm glad that Miss Aurora couldn't interview me. She smiles and strides out of the store with renewed determination, slinging her bag over her shoulder and leaving me a quivering mass of raging female hormones. I spend several minutes staring at the closed door through which she has just left before stepping back down to Earth.

I like her. I like her, that's it, I've admitted it. I can't hide my feelings any longer. I've never felt this way before. I find her attractive, very attractive. But I know it's a lost cause and I sigh with bittersweet regret. It was just a coincidence that she came. But, well, I can admire her from a distance, can't I? There's nothing wrong with that. And if I find a photographer, I'll admire her tomorrow at my leisure. I bite my lip at the thought of her and catch myself smiling like a schoolgirl. I have to call Gabriella to arrange the photo shoot.

Notes:

Well, well, well...Maya is doing things to our innocent Carina.

Chapter 4 Summary:

Let's look at Maya Bishop's point of view

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Maya´s POV

CARINA DELUCA

Birth date: September 10, 2001, Palermo, Italia

Address: 1114 SW Green Street, apartment 7, Haven Heights, Vancouver, WA 98888.Cell Phone: 360-959-4352

Social Security number: 987-65-4320

Bank: Wells Fargo Bank, Vancouver, Washington.

Account number: 309361. Balance:$683.16

Occupation: Undergraduate, Washington State University College of Arts and Sciences, majoring in English.

GPA: 4.0 Previous Education: Montesano Jr. Sr. High School.SAT

Score: 2150

Jobs: Clayton's Store, NW Vancouver Drive, Portland, part-time contract.

Father: Franklin A. Lambert.F

Date of Birth: September 1, 1969, died September 11, 2001.

Mother: Carla May Wilks Adams. Date of Birth: July 18, 1970. Married to Frank Lambert on March 1, 1989, widowed on September 11, 2001. Married to Raymond DeLuca on June 6, 2001, divorced on July 12, 2006. Married Stephen M. Morton on August 16, 2006, divorced on January 31, 2007. Married to Bob Adams on April 6, 2009.

Political affiliation: None found

Religious affiliation: None found

Sexual orientation: Unknown

Relationships: None indicated at the moment.

(PS: GPA:Grade Point Average. It's the grade point average for your classes. SAT: Standardized test to evaluate students interested in enrolling in college.)

I carefully read the executive summary for the hundredth time since I received it two days ago, looking for some revelation from the enigmatic Miss Carina DeLuca. I can't get the damn woman out of my head and I starting to get seriously angry. This past week, during particularly boring meetings, I have found myself replaying the interview in my head. Her clumsy fingers on the tape recorder, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the bite on her lip. Yes. The bite ignites me every time. And now here I am, parked outside Clayton, a small family-owned store on the outskirts of Portland where she works. You're a fool, Bishop. Why are you here? I knew she would be heading for this. All week... I knew I had to see her again. I had known it since she called my name in the elevator. I had tried to resist. I had waited five days, five tedious days, to see if I would forget about her. And I don't wait. I hate waiting... for whatever reason. I have never chased a woman before. The women I have had understood what I expected of them. My fear now is that Miss DeLuca is too young and not interested in what I have to offer her.

Will it be? Will she even be a good submissive? I shake my head.

So here I am, a jerk, sitting in a suburban parking lot in a depressing part of Portland. Her background check produced nothing remarkable... except for the last piece of information, which has been in front of my mind. It's the reason I'm here. Why no boyfriend or girlfriend, Miss DeLuca? Unknown sexual orientation...I remember how she looked at me during the interview, her grave embarrassment, the way her skin flushed, her beautiful skin... I have been suffering from these lewd thoughts ever since I met her. That's why you're here, Maya. I can't wait to see her again... those brown eyes have tormented me, even in my dreams. I haven't mentioned it to Flynn, and I'm glad, because I'm behaving like a stalker now. Maybe I should tell him. No. I don't want you to press me on your latest shit of therapy-based solution. I just need a distraction, and right now, the only distraction I want is Carina DeLuca. Let's see if little Miss DeLuca is as attractive as you remember her.

Showtime, Bishop.

A bell rings a bland electronic note as I walk inside the store. It's bigger than it looks from the outside, and although it's almost lunchtime, the place is quiet for a Saturday. There are hallways and hallways of the usual trash you'd expect. I had forgotten the possibilities that a hardware store could offer someone like me. I mainly buy my necessities online, but while I'm here, I may restock a few items: velcro, rings... Yes. I'll find the appetizing Miss DeLuca and have fun. It takes me three full seconds to locate her. She's hunched over the counter, staring intently at the computer screen and pecking at her lunch... Absently, she wipes a crumb from the corner of her lips and puts it in her mouth and sucks on her finger. My dick throbbing in response.

How old am I, fourteen? My body's reaction is irritating. Maybe this will stop if I tie her up, fuck her and whip her... and not necessarily in that order. Yes. That's what I need. She is completely absorbed in her task, which gives me an opportunity to study her. Lewd thoughts aside, she's attractive, truly attractive. I remembered it well. She looks up and freezes. It's just as disturbing as the first time I met her. She holds me down with a discerning look, stupefied, I think, and I don't know if that's a good answer or a bad answer.

—Miss DeLuca.

- "Mrs. Bishop," she says, whispering and stunned. Ah, a good answer.

—I was passing by. I need a few things. It is a pleasure to see her again. "A real pleasure. She's dressed in a tight t-shirt and jeans, not the shapeless shit she was wearing earlier this week. She is all long legs, narrow waist and perfect. Her lips are still parted in surprise and I have to resist the urge to hold her chin and close her mouth. I flew in from Seattle just to see you and the way you look at me right now, it was really worth the trip.

- Carina. My name is Carina. How can I help you, Mrs. Bishop? - She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders as she did in the interview and gives me a false smile that, I'm sure, she reserves for customers. The game begins, Miss DeLuca.

—There are a few things I need. For starters, I'd like some cable ties. - My request takes her off guard; she looks stunned. Oh, this is going to be fun. You'd be amazed at what I can do with a few wires, Beautiful.

—We have several sizes. Shall I show them to you? - she says, finding her voice. Lead the way. She comes out from behind the counter and points to one of the aisles. She's using chucks. Absentmindedly, I wonder what it would look like in high heels. Louboutins... Nothing except Louboutins.

—They're with the electrical items, in aisle eight. - Her voice hesitates and blushes... I affected her. Hope springs up in my chest. She is not Hetero, then. I smile.

- After you." - I hold out my hand to lead the way. Letting her walk forward gives me the space and time to admire her fantastic ass. Her long, abundant ponytail marks time like a metronome to the gentle swaying of her hips. She really is the complete package: sweet, polite, and beautiful, with all the physical attributes I value in a submissive. But, the million-dollar question is: could she be a submissive? She probably doesn't know anything about lifestyle—my lifestyle—but I really want to introduce her to it. You're getting ahead of yourself on this deal, Bishop.

—Are you in Portland on business? She asks, interrupting my thoughts. Her voice is loud; she is feigning disinterest. It makes me want to laugh. "Women rarely make me laugh."

- I was visiting the university's agriculture department, which is in Vancouver," I lie. I'm actually here to see you, miss, DeLuca. Her is decomposing and I feel like shit. - I'm currently funding research on crop rotation and soil science." - That, at least, is true."

. Is it part of your plan to feed the world?" - She raises an eyebrow, amused."

- Something like that," she murmured. Is she laughing at me? Oh, I'd love to put a stop to that if you're laughing. But how do you get started? Maybe with a dinner, instead of the usual interview... Now, that would be a novel: taking a potential submissive to dinner. We come to cable ties, which are ordered in a variety of sizes and colors. Absentmindedly, my fingers run over the packages. I could simply invite her to dinner. Like... on a date? Accept? When I glance at her, she's examining her interlaced fingers. She can't look at me... This is promising. I select the longest cables. They're more flexible, after all, since they can fit two ankles or two wrists at the same time.

—These will be fine.

—Anything else? —she says quickly... either she's being super attentive or she wants me out of the store, I don't know which.

—I'd like duct tape.

—Are you decorating your house?

—No, I'm not decorating it. Oh, if only you knew

—This way," she says. The ribbon is in the decoration hallway. Come on, Bishop. You don't have much time.

- Have you worked here for a long time?" "Of course, I already know the answer. Unlike other people, I do my research. For some reason, she's embarrassed. Christ, this girl is shy. I don't have a hope in hell. She turns quickly and walks down the hallway toward the section labeled "decoration. I follow her enthusiastically, like a puppy.

- Four years," she murmurs as we reach the duct tape. She leans down and grabs two rolls, each of different widths. —The wider tape is much more effective as a gag. As I raisin, the tips of our fingers touch, briefly. It resonates in my groin. Damn! She turns pale.

- Anything else?" Her voice is soft and hoarse. Christ, I am having the same effect on her as she has on me. Maybe

—A little rope, I think." She runs quickly down the hallway, giving me another chance to appreciate her cute ass. We have synthetic fiber, natural fiber, hemp, decable... Shit, stop. I moan inwardly, trying to chase away the image of her suspending the ceiling in my playroom. "It's rougher and scrapes more if you fight it..." my rope of choice. A tremor runs through her fingers, but she is five meters tall like a professional. Taking a utility knife from her right pocket, she cuts the rope in one swift motion, carefully winds it up and ties it with a knot.

- You were a Girl Scout?"

- Group activities aren't my thing, Mrs. Bishop."

- What's your thing, Carina? - Her pupils dilate as I look at her. "Yes!"

- Books," she replies.

- What kind of books?" The usual. The classics. Especially English literature. The Brontës and Austen, I bet. All the romantic-and-heart-and-flowers kind. That's not good."

- Do you need anything else?"

- What else would you recommend? "I want to see your reaction.

- For DIY? - She asks, surprised. I want to laugh out loud. Oh, beautiful, DIY isn't my thing. I nod, stifling my laughter. Her eyes scan my body and I tense. She's giving me a review!

- A work overall," she blurts out. It's the most unexpected thing I've heard you say since her question: "Are you gay?"

- You don't want your clothes to get dirty. - She points to my cream dress. I can't resist."

- I could always take it off.

- Uhm. she blushes a lot and looks down. I'll take her out of her misery.

—I'll take a work overalls. I don't want my clothes to get damaged. - Without a word, she turns and walks quickly down the hallway and I follow her seductive steps. She says, sounding panting as she hands me a pair of blue overalls. She is mortified, her eyes still cast down. Christ, provoke me things.

—How is the article going? I ask, hoping she can relax a little. She looks up and gives me a brief relieved smile. Finally.

—I'm not writing it, but Gabriella. Miss Aurora. My roommate, she is the writer. She is very happy, she is the editor of the magazine and was devastated for not having been able to interview her personally. - It is the longest sentence she has spoken since we met and she is talking about someone else, not herself. Before I can comment, she adds, - The only thing she is worried about is that she doesn´t have any original photos of you.

The tenacious Miss Aurora wants photographs. Advertising photographs, huh? I can do that. "She'll allow me to spend time with the appetizing Miss DeLuca."

- What kind of photographs do you want?" She stares at me for a moment, then shakes her head, puzzled, not knowing what to say. Maybe tomorrow—" "I can stay in Portland." Work from a hotel. A room at the Heathman, perhaps. I'll need Taylor to come over, bring my laptop and some clothes. Or Jack... unless he's fucking, which is his modus operandi on the weekends.

—Would you be willing to do a photo shoot? "She can't contain her surprise. I give her a brief nod. Yes, I want to spend more time with you. Easy, Bishop.

—Gabriella will be delighted... if we find a photographer. She smiles and her face lights up like a cloudless dawn. - Tell me something tomorrow.- I pull the wallet out of my purse. - My card. There's my cell phone number. You would have to call me before ten in the morning.

And if you don't, I'll head back to Seattle and forget about this stupid adventure. The thought depresses me.

—Very well. She continues smiling. We both turn when a casually dressed girl appears at the far end of the hallway. Their eyes are all on Miss Carina DeLuca. Who the hell is this idiot?

—Hey, excuse me for a moment, Mrs. Bishop. She walks towards her and the idiot wraps her in a gorilla's embrace. My blood freezes. It is a primitive response. Get your fucking claws off of her. I clench my hands and am only slightly placated when she doesn't hug back. They fall into a whispered conversation. Perhaps Welch's information was wrong. Maybe this girl is her girlfriend. She looks the right age and can't take her ambitious eyes off her. She holds her for a moment at arm's length, examining her, then puts an arm around her shoulders. It seems like a casual gesture, but I know she's setting up a claim and telling me to leave. She seems to embarrassed, moving from one foot to the other. Shit. I should go. I have exaggerated my hand. She's with this girl. Then she says something else and moves out of reach, touching her arm, not her hand, shrugging her shoulders to get it off her.

It is clear that they are not close.

- Hey, Nattie, this is Maya Bishop. Mrs. Bishop, this is Nattie Clayton, the sister of the store owner. - She gives me a strange look that I don't understand and continues, - I've known Nattie since I worked here, although we don't see each other very often. She's back from Princeton, where she's studying business administration." She's babbling, giving me a lengthy explanation, and telling me they're not together, I think. The boss's sister, not a girlfriend. I am relieved, but the extent of the relief I feel is unexpected and makes me frown. This woman has really meditated under my skin.

—Mrs. Clayton. "My tone is deliberately curt." Her handshake is languid, like her hair. Idiot. Wait... Isn't it the famous Maya Bishop? Bishop Enterprises Holdings? Yes, that's me,. In a heartbeat, I watch her transform from territorial to subservient.

—Wow... can I help you with anything?

—Carina has busied herself, Mrs. Clayton. She has been very attentive. "Now fuck you." "Great," she bubbles, all white teeth and respectful. "See you later, Carina". "Sure, Nattie," she says and walks slowly to the back of the store.

- Anything else, Mrs. Bishop?"

- Nothing else," I murmur. Shit, I'm up in time and I still don't know if I'm going to see her again. I have to know if there is any hope that I could consider what I have in mind. How can I ask her? Am I ready to take care of a innocent who knows nothing? It will need considerable training. Closing my eyes, I imagine the interesting possibilities this presents... getting there is going to be half the fun. Will she even be willing to do this? Or am I wrong? She walks to the cash register and checks off my purchases, all while keeping her eyes on the cash register. I want to see her face again and gauge what she's thinking. Finally, she lifts her head.

- It'll be forty-three dollars, please. Is that all? - She asks as I hand her my American Express credit card.

- Yes, thank you, Carina. "Her name, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, flows smoothly over my tongue. Pack items quickly. This is it.

- Call me if you want me to do the photo shoot." She nods as she hands me my card. Until tomorrow, perhaps...I can't just leave. I have to let her know that I'm interested.

- Ah, one thing, Carina... I'm glad Miss Aurora couldn't interview me. - She looks surprised and flattered. This is good. I slide the bag over my shoulder and leave the store. Yes, against my better judgment, I desire it. Now I have to wait... waiting... once again.

I keep my eyes straight ahead as I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and get into the rental car. I'm deliberately avoiding looking at her. I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to do it. My eyes roll quickly to the rearview mirror, where I can see the door of the store, but all I see is the pictures front of the store. She's not at the window, looking at me. It's disappointing. I press on speed dial and Taylor answers before the phone has a chance to ring. - Mrs. Bishop," he says. - Make reservations at the Heathman; I'm staying in Portland this weekend, and could you bring the SUV, my computer and paperwork under it, and a change or two of clothes? - Yes, ma'am. And Charlie Tango? —Have Joe take you to PDX (Portland International Airport) —I'll take care of it, ma'am. I'll be with you in about three and a half hours. I hang up and start the car. So I have a few hours in Portland while I wait to see if this girl is interested in me. What should I do? Time for a walk, I think.

Maybe this way I can get this strange hunger

Notes:

And now it's going to get more interesting...Maya fifty shades of stalking, both are falling and the innocent Carina will be able to resist?

Chapter 5 Chapter Text

CARINA´S POV

-But what was she doing at Clayton's?

Her curiosity oozes through the phone. I'm at the back of the warehouse and I try to make my voice sound unconcerned.

-She was just passing by.

- It seems like too much of a coincidence. Don't you think she came to see you?"

My heart leaps at the thought, but the joy is short-lived. The sad and disappointing reality is that she's come for work.

-She's here to visit the university's agricultural department. She's funding research," I murmur.

-Yes, yes. She's given the department a grant of two and a half million dollars."

-How do you know?"

-Carina, I'm a journalist and I wrote an article about this woman. It's my obligation to know."

-Okay, Carla Bernardo, don't get so worked up. Well, do you want those photos?"

-Of course. The problem is who's going to take them and where."

-We could ask her where." She said she'd be staying in the area. Can you contact her?

- I have her cell phone.

Gabriella screams. - The richest, most elusive, most enigmatic bachelorette in all of Washington gave you her cell phone number?”

-Well… yes.”

-Carina! She likes you. There’s no doubt in my mind,” she states flatly.

-Gabriella, she’s just trying to be nice.

But even as I say it, I know it’s not true. Maya Bishop isn’t nice. She’s polite, maybe. And a small voice whispers, Maybe Gabriella is right. It makes my hair stand on end just thinking that maybe, just maybe, she could like me. After all, it’s true that she told me she was glad Gabriella didn't interview her. I hug myself with quiet joy and turn left and right, considering the possibility that for a moment she might like me. Gabriella brings me back to the present.

-I don't know how we'll be able to do the shoot. I saw him, our usual photographer, he can't. He's up in Idas Falls to spend the weekend with his family. He'll be upset when he finds out he missed the chance to photograph one of the most important businesswomen in the country."

- Um... And Arizona?"

- Good idea! You ask her. She'd do anything for you. Then you call Bishop and ask her where she wants to go."

Gabriella is insufferably disdainful of Arizona.

-I think you should call her.”

- Who? Arizona?” she asks mockingly.

- No, Bishop.”

- Carina, you’re the one who’s in a relationship with her.”

- A relationship?” I exclaim, raising my pitch several octaves. I barely know this woman.

- At least you’ve talked to her,” she says relentlessly.

- She seems to want to get to know you better, and she’s gay, and you like women. Carina, just call her.” And she hangs up on me.
She can be really bossy sometimes. I frown and stick my tongue out at the phone. I’m leaving a message for Arizona when Arizona goes into the warehouse to get some sandpaper.

-Carina, we’ve got work out there,” she says evenly.

- Yeah, sorry,” I mumble, turning to leave.

- How do you know Maya Bishop?”
Arizona tries to act nonchalant, but she can't quite manage it.

-I had to interview her for the school magazine. Gabriella wasn't feeling well." I shrug, trying to make light of it, but I'm not much better at it than she is.

-Maya Bishop at Clayton's, Uh?," Arizona snorts, surprised. She shakes her head, as if trying to clear her head.

- So, are you up for going out for drinks tonight?"

Every time she comes home, she asks me to go out, and I always say no. It's a ritual. I've never thought it was a good idea to go out with the boss's sister, and besides, Arizona is as cute as the girl next door, but no matter how hard I try, she can't be a literary hero. "Is Bishop?" my subconscious asks, raising its imaginary eyebrow. I silence her.

-Aren't you guys having a family dinner for your brother's birthday?"

-Tomorrow."

-Maybe another day, Arizona. I have to study tonight. I have final exams next week.

-Carina, one of these days you’ll say yes,” she says, smiling. And I go back to the store.

- But I do landscapes, Carina, not portraits,” Arizona says, retorting.

- Arizona, please,” I begged.

Cell phone in hand, I paced around the living room, gazing at the sunset light outside the window.

-Give me your phone.” Gabriella takes it from me by abruptly brushing her hair off her shoulder. - Listen to me, Arizona Robbins, if you want our magazine to cover your exhibition opening, you’ll do the shoot for us tomorrow, okay?”

Gabriella can be incredibly tough. - Good. Carina will call you back with the details of where and when. See you tomorrow.” And she hangs up. - Solved. Now all we have to do is decide where and when. Call her.” She hands me the phone.

My stomach tightens. - Call Bishop right now!” I frown at her and pull Bishop’s card out of my back pocket. I take a long, deep breath and dial the number with trembling fingers. She answers on the second ring, her voice calm and cool.

-Are you… Mrs. Bishop? This is Carina DeLuca.” I don’t recognize my own voice. I’m so nervous.
Bishop is silent for a second. I’m trembling.

-Miss DeLuca. It’s so nice to hear from you.” her voice has changed. I think she is surprised yourself, and it sounds very… warm. Even seductive. My breath catches in my throat and I blush. Suddenly I realize Gabriella Aurora is gaping at me, so I bolt for the kitchen to avoid her unwelcome, searching gaze.

-So… We’d like to do the photo shoot for the article.” Breathe, Carina, breathe. My lungs suck in a quick breath. - Tomorrow, if it’s all right. Where would be good for you?” I can almost hear her sphinx-like grin on the other end of the phone.

-I’m staying at the Heathman Hotel in Portland. Is 9:30 a.m. okay?”

-Okay, I’ll see you there.”

I’m buzzing and out of breath. I look like a kid, not a grown woman who can vote and drink alcohol in Washington State.

-I can’t wait, Miss DeLuca.” I see the wicked glint in her blue eyes. How she manage to wrap up such a tantalizing promise in just five words?

Gabriella is in the kitchen, staring at me with a look of complete and utter dismay.

-Carina DeLuca. You like her! I’ve never seen or heard you so… so… melt over anyone. You’ve turned red.”

-Gabriella, you know I turn red for nothing. I do it for sport. Don’t be ridiculous,” I answer angrily.

Gabriella blinks in surprise. It's very rare for me to get angry, and if I do, I quickly pass.

-She intimidates me... That's all."

-At the Heathman, no less," Gabriella murmurs. - I'm going to call the manager to negotiate a location for the shoot."

-I'm going to make dinner. Then I have to study." I open a cabinet to start preparing dinner, unable to hide the fact that I'm annoyed with her. That night I'm restless, tossing and turning. I dream of blue eyes, overalls, long legs, long fingers, and very dark, unexplored places. I wake up twice with my heart pounding. If I don't get any sleep, I'm going to look great tomorrow, I scold myself. I punch the pillow and try to calm down.

The Heathman is in downtown Portland. They finished the impressive brownstone building just in time for the crash of the late 1920s. Arizona, Travis, and I are in my car, and Gabriella is in her CLK because my car doesn't fit everyone. Travis is Arizona's friend and assistant, and he's come to help with the lighting. Gabriella managed to get us to use a room at the Heathman in exchange for mentioning the hotel in the article. When she explains at the front desk that we're here to photograph businesswoman Maya Bishop, they immediately upgrade us to a suite. But a normal one, because apparently Mrs. Bishop is staying in the largest suite in the building. An overenthusiastic marketing manager shows us the suite. He's very young and for some reason very nervous. I suspect Gabriella's beauty and her authoritative air are disarming him because she can do whatever she wants with him. The rooms are elegant, understated, and furnished with quality furniture. It's nine o'clock. We have half an hour to set up everything. Gabriella paces back and forth.

-Arizona, I think we'll put it in front of this wall. Is that okay?" She doesn't wait for her to answer. Travis, move the chairs.

-Carina, can you ask for some refreshments? And tell Bishop, we’re here.

Yes, Mistress. She’s so dominant… I roll my eyes, but do what she asks.

Half an hour later, Maya Bishop enters our suite. Oh my! She’s wearing a white shirt with an open collar, tight gray pants that show off her seductive figure, and heels that match her shirt. Her hair is wet. Looking at her makes my mouth dry… She’s incredibly hot. She enters the suite accompanied by a man in his thirties, with a shaved head, wearing an elegant black suit and tie, who remains silent in the corner. Her blue eyes regard us impassively.

-Miss DeLuca, we meet again.

Bishop extends her hand, which I shake as I blink rapidly. Oh my God! She's truly beautiful. When I touch her hand, I feel this pleasant rush through my entire body, turning me on and making me blush. I'm convinced everyone can hear my uneven breathing.

-Mrs. Bishop, this is Gabriella Aurora,” I whispers, pointing at Gabriella, who steps closer and looks her straight in the eye.

-The tenacious Miss Aurora. How are you?” She smiles slightly and seems genuinely amused. - I hope you’re feeling better. Carina told me you were sick last week.”

- I’m fine, thank you, Mrs. Bishop.” she shakes her hand firmly without flinching. I remind myself that Gabriella went to the best private schools in Washington. Her family has money, so she grew up confident in herself and her place in the world. She doesn’t mess around. I’m impressed.

- Thank you for making time for our session,” she says with a polite, professional smile.

-It’s my pleasure,” Bishop says, giving me a look. I blush again. “Damn.”

-This is Arizona Robbins, our photographer,” I say. She smiles at Arizona, who smiles warmly back, then looks coolly at Bishop.

-Mrs. Bishop,” she nods at her.

-Mrs. Robbins.” Bishop’s expression changes as well, as she looks at Arizona.

-Where do you want me to stand?” Bishop asks, her tone slightly threatening. But Gabriella isn’t about to let Arizona call the shots.

-Mrs. Bishop, would you please sit here? Be careful of the wires. And then we’ll do some standing ones, too.” She points to a chair against a wall. Travis turns on the lights, which momentarily blind Bishop, and whispers an apology. Then he and I stand back and watch Arizona as she takes the pictures. She takes several, handheld, asking Bishop to turn this way, then the other, to move an arm, then lower it again. Then she sets the camera on the tripod and continues taking pictures of Bishop sitting, posing patiently and naturally, for about twenty minutes.

My wish has come true: I admire Bishop from a not-so-far distance. Twice our eyes meet, and I have to tear my gaze from hers, so perfect.

-We’ve had enough sitting down,” Gabriella interrupts.

-Would you stand up, Mrs. Bishop?” She stands, and Travis runs to pull out her chair. The shutter on Arizona’s Nikon starts clicking again.

-I think we’ve had enough,” Arizona announces five minutes later.

-Very well,” Gabriella says. - Thank you again, Mrs. Bishop.” She shakes her hand, and so does Arizona.

-I’d love to read your article, Miss Aurora,” murmurs Bishop, and turns to me, standing by the door. - Are you coming with me, Miss DeLuca?” she asks.

-Sure,” I reply, completely bewildered.

I look nervously at Gabriella, who shrugs. I see that Arizona, standing behind her, pouts.

-Have a nice day,” Bishop says, opening the door and stepping aside so I can go out first.

What’s this all about? What does she want? I stop in the hallway, fidgeting as Bishop leaves the room, followed by the shaved head and suit.

-I’ll let you know, Taylor,” she murmurs to the shaved head. Taylor walks down the hall, and Bishop turns her burning blue gaze on me. Shit… Did I do something wrong?

-I was wondering if you’d like to get coffee with me.” My heart leaps into my mouth. A date? Maya Bishop is asking me a date? She’s asking you if you want coffee. Maybe she thinks you’re not awake yet, my subconscious mocks me. I clear my throat and try to steady my nerves.

-I have to get everyone home,” I mutter apologetically, wringing my hands and fingers.

-Taylor!” she yells. I jump. Taylor, who had been waiting at the end of the hall, turns and comes back to us.

-Are you going to college?” Bishop asks me quietly. I nod, too stunned to answer.

-Taylor can take them. He’s my driver. We have a big 4x4, so he can drive the equipment too.”

-Mrs. Bishop?” Taylor asks when he reaches us, his face expressionless.

-Can you drive the photographer, her assistant, and Miss Aurora, please?

-Of course, ma'am, Taylor replies.

-Settled. Can you join me for a coffee now? - Bishop smiles, taking it for granted. I frown.

-You see… Mrs. Bishop… erm… the truth is… Look, there’s no need for Taylor to drive them. - I glance quickly at Taylor, who remains stoically impassive. - I can swap cars with Gabriella, if you’ll wait a moment.

Bishop gives me a dazzling, effortless smile from ear to ear. Oh my… She opens the door to the suite and holds it for me. I rush in and find Gabriella deep in discussion with Arizona.

-Carina, I think there’s no doubt she likes you,” she says without any preamble.

Arizona frowns at me.

-But I don’t trust her,” Gabriella adds. I raise my hand, hoping she’ll shut up, and miraculously she does.

-Gabriella, can you take Wanda and let me borrow your car?”

-Why?”

-Maya Bishop asked me to get coffee with her.” Her mouth falls open, not knowing what to say. I revel in the moment. She takes my arm and drags me toward the bedroom, at the far end of the suite’s living room.

-Carina, she’s a strange woman,” she warns me. - She’s very pretty, all right, but I think she’s dangerous. Especially for someone like you.”

-What do you mean, someone like me?” I ask, offended.

-An innocent like you, Carina. You know what I mean,” she answers a little angrily.
I blush.

-Gabriella, it’s just a coffee. I start exams this week and I have to study, so I won’t go on too long.”
She purses her lips, as if she’s considering my request. Finally, she takes her keys out of her pocket and gives it to me. I give it mine.

-See you later. Don’t be long, or I’ll call someone to come rescue you.”

-Thank you.” I hug her. I leave the suite and find Maya Bishop waiting for me, leaning against the wall. She looks like a model posing for a sophisticated fashion magazine.

-That’s it.” Let's get some coffee," I murmur, blushing again. She smiles.

-You first, Miss DeLuca." She stands and gestures for me to go first.

I walk down the hall, my legs shaking, my stomach full of butterflies, and my heart pounding. I'm going to get some coffee with Maya Bishop. We walk together down the wide hallway toward the elevator. What can I say to her? Suddenly, fear paralyzes my mind. What are we going to talk about? What do I have in common with her? Her warm voice startles me and pulls me from my thoughts.

-How long have you known Gabriella Aurora?”

Well, an easy question to start with.

-Since freshman year. We’re good friends.”

-ok” she answers evasively.

What’s she thinking? She presses the button to call the elevator, and almost immediately it beeps. The doors open to reveal a young couple passionately embracing. They jerk apart, surprised and uncomfortable, and look guiltily in every direction but ours. Bishop and I step into the elevator. I try not to change my expression, so I look down at the floor as I feel my cheeks burn. When I look up at Bishop, she seems to have cracked a smile, but it’s very hard to tell. The young couple says nothing. We descend to the ground floor in awkward silence. There isn't even any of that terrible background music playing to distract us. The doors open, and to my surprise, Bishop takes my hand and holds it with her long, cold fingers. I feel the current running through my body, and my already rapid heartbeat quickens. As she pulls me out of the elevator, we hear the couple giggling behind us. Bishop smiles.

-What's with elevators?" she mumbles. We cross the large, lively hotel lobby toward
the entrance, but Bishop avoids the revolving door. I wonder if it's because she'd have to let go of my hand. It's a beautiful Sunday in May. The sun is shining, and there's hardly any traffic. Maya Bishop turns left and walks to the corner, where we stop to wait for the light to change. I'm on the street and Maya Bishop leads me by the hand. I've never held hands with anyone before. My head spins, and a tingling sensation runs through my body. I try to suppress the ridiculous smile that threatens to split my face in two. Try to calm down, Carina, my subconscious implores me.
The little green man at the stoplight lights up, and we continue on our way. We walk four blocks until we reach the Portland Coffee House, where Maya Bishop lets go to hold the door for me.

-Why don't you choose a table while I order? What would you like to have?" she asks, as polite as ever.

-I'll have, uh, black tea."

She raises her eyebrows.

-Don't you want coffee?"

-Not now, thank you."

She smiles.

-Okay, black tea. Sweet?

I'm perplexed for a second, thinking I’m the Sweet, but luckily my subconscious puckers up, pursing her lips. "No, silly... The tea with sugar."

-No, thanks." I stare down at my knobby fingers.

-Want something to eat?"

-No, thanks." I shake my head, and Bishop heads to the counter. I glance up slightly, glancing at her furtively while she waits in line to be served. I could just stare at her all day... She's tall and thin... And the way those pants look on her... Oh my God. A couple of times she runs her long, pretty fingers through her hair, which is already dry but still combed. Oh, I wish I did that too. The thought flashes through my head, and my face burns. I bite my lip and look down at my hands again. I don't like the direction my wayward thoughts are taking.

-A dollar for your thoughts."

Maya Bishop has returned and is staring at me. I blush. I was just thinking about running my fingers through your hair and wondering if it would be soft. I shake my head.
Bishop is carrying a tray, which she places on the small, round, birch-veneered table. She hands me a cup, a saucer, a small teapot, and another saucer with a tea bag labeled TWININGS ENGLISH BREAKFAST, my favorite. She's ordered a coffee with a pretty leaf pattern printed on the milk foam. "How do they do it?" I wonder distractedly. She's also ordered a blueberry muffin. She sets the tray to one side, sits opposite me, and crosses her long legs. She seems comfortable, very content with her body. I envy her. And here I am, lanky and clumsy, barely able to get from A to B without falling flat on my face.

-What are you thinking?” she insists.

-That this is my favorite tea.” My voice is low and clipped. I simply can’t believe I’m with Maya Bishop at a coffee shop in Portland. She frowns. She knows I’m hiding something from her. I put the tea bag in the teapot and almost immediately remove it with the spoon. Bishop tilts her head, looking at me curiously as I place the tea bag on the saucer.

-I like my tea very weak black,” I murmur by way of explanation.

-I see. Is She your girlfriend?”

“But what’s she saying?”

-Who?”

-The photographer. Arizona Robbins.”

I laugh nervously, but curiously. Why did she get that impression?

-No. Arizona is a good friend of mine. That’s all. Why did you think she was my girlfriend?”

-The way you both smile at each other.” She holds my gaze.

It’s disconcerting. I want to look away, but I'm trapped, enthralled.

-She's like family," I whisper.

Bishop nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer, and turns her gaze to her blueberry muffin. Her long fingers deftly peel back the paper, and I stare at her, fascinated.

-Do you want some?” she asks. Her amused smile that hides a secret returns.

-No, thanks.” I frown, then look back at my hands.

- And the girl you introduced me, yesterday at the store—isn’t she your girlfriend?”

- No. Nattie’s just a friend. I told you yesterday.

What nonsense is this?”

-Why are you asking?” I say.

-You seems nervous around them.

Damn, it’s personal. I’m only nervous around you, Bishop.”

-I find you intimidating.” My face flushes, but I mentally pat myself on the back for being honest and look at my hands again. I hear her take a deep breath.

-So you find me intimidating,” she nods. - You’re very honest, Please don't lower your head. I like seeing your face.

I look at her, and she gives me an encouraging, ironic, smile.

-That gives me some clue as to what you might be thinking," she says. - You are a mystery, Miss DeLuca.

A mystery? Me?"

-I'm not mysterious at all."

-I think you're very restrained," she murmurs.

Really? Wow… how? It's incredible.

-Me, restrained? Impossible.

-Except when you blushes, of course, which you do often. I'd like to know why you are blushing.

She puts a piece of muffin in her mouth and begins to chew it slowly, without taking her eyes off me. And, of course, I blush. Shit!

-Are you attracted to men or women?

-I'm attracted to both.

-I see.

-Do you always make such personal comments?

-I hadn't realized it was personal. Have I offended you? - she asks me in a surprised tone.

-No - I answer sincerely.

- Fine.

-But you are a little arrogant. - She raises an eyebrow and, if I'm not mistaken, she blushes slightly too.

-I usually do things in my way, Carina, - she murmurs. - In everything.

-I don't doubt it. Why don't you ask me to call you by your first name?

I'm surprised by my boldness. Why is the conversation getting so serious? Things aren't going the way I thought they would. I can't believe I'm being so hostile toward her. As if she's trying to warn me about something.

-I'm only called like that by my family and a few close friends. I prefer it that way." She still hasn't said, "Call me Maya." She's definitely a control freak, there's no other explanation, and part of me is thinking that maybe it would have been better if Gabriella had interviewed her. Two control freaks together. Besides, she's Attractive, like all the women in her company. I don't like imagining Maya and Gabriella together, besides Gabriella isn't into women. I take a sip of my tea, and Bishop puts another piece of muffin in her mouth.

-Are you an only child?” she asks.

Oh… Now she changes the subject.

-Yes.”

-Tell me about your parents.

Why do you want to know about my parents? It's so boring.”

-My mother lives in Georgia with her new husband, Bob. My stepfather lives in Montesano.”

-And your father?”

-My father died when I was a child.”

-I'm sorry,” she mumbles. For a second, her expression changes.

-I don't remember him.”

-And your mother remarried?”

I snort.

-Yes

She frowns.

-You don't tell too much about your life? - she says in a dry tone, rubbing her chin, as if thoughtful.

-Neither do you.”

-You’ve already interviewed me, and I remember some pretty personal questions,” she says, smiling.

“Wow! She’s reminding me of the question about whether she’s gay. I’m dying of embarrassment again. I know that in the next few years I’m going to need intensive therapy so I don’t feel so bad every time I remember that moment. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind about my mother, anything to get rid of that memory.

-My mother is great. She’s a hopeless romantic. She’s been married four times.”
Maya raises her eyebrows in surprise.

-I miss her,” I continue. - She’s with Bob now. I hope she’ll keep a tight rein on her and pick up the pieces when her crazy plans don’t go as she hoped.” I smile fondly. I haven’t seen my mom in a long time.

Maya watches me intently, occasionally sipping her coffee. I really shouldn't be looking at her lips. It unnerves me.

-Do you get along with your stepfather?"

-Yes. I grew up with him. He's my father to me, We lived in Italy for a while, that's where Mama met him, but basically I grew up in America.

-So what's he like?"

-Ray? He's... taciturn and accepts me as I am."

-Is that all?"- Maya Bishop asks, surprised.

I shrug.

What does this woman expect? The story of my life?"

-Taciturn like his stepdaughter," Bishop tells me.

I hold back a snort.

-He likes soccer, especially European soccer, and bowling, and fishing, and making furniture. He's a carpenter. He was in the army." I sigh.

-Did you live with him?"

-Yes. My mom met husband number three when I was fifteen. I stayed with Ray."

She frowns, as if she doesn't understand.

-Didn't you want to live with your mom? - she asks.

Honestly, what does it matter to her?

-Husband number three lived in Texas. I had my life in Montesano. And… well, my mother had just gotten married.

I stop. My mother never talks about husband number three. What does Bishop expect? It's none of her business. I can play her game, too.

-Tell me about your parents. - I ask. She shrugs.

-My father is a lawyer, and my mother is a pediatrician. They live in Seattle.

Wow… She grew up in a well-to-do family. I think of a successful couple who adopts three children, and one of them grows up to be a beautiful woman who enters the business world and conquers it single-handedly. What led her down that path? Her parents must be proud.

-What do your brothers do?”

- Jack is a builder, and my little sister is in Paris studying cooking with a famous French chef.”

Her eyes cloud over with anger. She doesn’t want to talk about her family, or about her.

-I’ve heard Paris is beautiful,” I murmur.

Why doesn’t she want to talk about her family? Because she’s adopted?

-It’s beautiful. Have you been?” she asks, her anger forgotten.

-I’ve never been outside the United States. Well, since I came from Italy to America, I don't remember much about Italy.

“We’re back to trivialities. What’s she hiding?

-Would you like to go?”

-To Paris?” I exclaim.

I’m taken aback. Who wouldn’t like to go to Paris?

-Of course,” I reply.

-But where I’d really like to go is England.”

She tilts her head slightly and runs her index finger along her lower lip… Oh my God!

-Why?”

I blink. Focus, DeLuca.

-Because Shakespeare, Austen, the Brontë sisters, Thomas Hardy were born there… I'd like to see the places that inspired them to write such wonderful books.”

When I mention these literary greats, I remember I should be studying. I glance at my watch.

-I'm going to go. I have to study.”

-For the exams?”

-Yes. They start on Tuesday.”

-Where is Miss Aurora's car?”

-In the hotel parking lot.”

-I'll walk you.”

-Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Bishop.”

She smiles her strange, secret-keeping smile.

-You're welcome, Carina. It was a pleasure. Come on,” she says, offering me a hand.

I take it, puzzled, and walk with her out of the café. We walk to the hotel in, I'd like to say, companionable silence. At least she seems as calm as ever. As for me, I'm desperately trying to analyze how our morning coffee went. I feel like I've been interviewed for a job, but I'm not sure why.

-Do You always wear jeans?" she asks out of the blue.

-Mostly.

She nods. We've reached the intersection, across the street from the hotel. Everything is spinning in my head. What a strange question… And I know we only have so little time left together. This is it. This has been it, and I've messed up, I know it. Maybe she's seeing someone.

-Do you have a girlfriend?" I blurt.

Damn! Did I say that out loud? Her lips curl into a half smile, and she stares at me.

-No, Carina. I don't have girlfriends - she replies quietly.
What does that mean? For a moment, I think she's going to give me some explanation, some clue about her enigmatic statement, but she doesn't. I have to go. I have to get my thoughts in order. I have to get away from her. I take a step forward, stumble, and hurtle toward the road.

-Shit, Carina!" Maya Bishop yells.

She yanks my hand so hard that I end up falling on top of her just as a cyclist zooms by on the wrong side of the road, and I don't get run over by a miracle. It all happens so fast. Suddenly I'm falling, and in a matter of seconds I'm in her arms and she's pulling me tight against her perfect, visible breasts. Oh my God! I breathe in her clean, healthy scent. She smells like fresh laundry and expensive perfume. It's intoxicating. I inhale deeply.

-Are you okay?" —she whispers to me.

With one arm she holds me against her, and with the fingers of her other hand she gently runs my face to make sure I'm not hurt. Her thumb brushes over my lower lip and she holds her breath. She stares into my eyes, and for a moment, or maybe for an eternity, I hold her gaze, anxious and heated, but finally I focus on her full mouth. And for the first time in twenty-one years, I want to be kissed. I want to feel her mouth on mine.

Chapter 6 Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Maya´s POV

It's been five hours without a phone call from the alluring Miss DeLuca. What the hell was I thinking? I can see the street outside my bedroom window at the Heathman. I hate waiting. I always have. The now-overcast weather held off during my walk through Forest Park, but the walk did nothing to cure my agitation. I'm annoyed at her for not calling, but mostly I'm annoyed at myself. I'm a fool for being here. What a waste of time chasing this woman. When, ever, have I ever chased a woman? Bishop, calm down. Sighing, I check my phone again hoping I've simply missed her call, but there's nothing. At least Taylor has arrived and I have all my shit. I have Barney's report on his department's graphene testing to read and I can work in peace. Peace? I haven't known peace since Miss DeLuca fell into my office.

When I look up, twilight has covered my room in gray shadows. The prospect of another night alone is depressing. As I contemplate what to do, my phone vibrates against the polished wood of the desk, and an unfamiliar but vaguely familiar number with a Washington area code flashes across the screen. Suddenly, my heart is pounding like I've run ten miles. Is that her? I answer.

-Are you... Mrs. Bishop?" This is Carina DeLuca..

My face breaks into a shit-eating grin. Well, well. A whispery, nervous, soft-spoken Miss DeLuca. My night is looking up. "Miss DeLuca. Nice to hear from you." I hear her breath hitch, and the sound travels straight to my friend…my dick. Great. I'm affecting her. Just like she's affecting me.

-Well... We'd like to do the photo shoot for the article. Tomorrow, if it's okay. Where would be good for you?

My room. Just you, me, inside you and the cable ties.

-I’m staying at the Heathman in Portland. Is 9:30 a.m. okay?”

-Okay, see you there,” she stammers, unable to hide the relief and delight in her voice.

-I can’t wait, Miss DeLuca.” I hang up before she can feel my excitement and how pleased I am. Leaning back in my chair, I gaze out at the darkening horizon and run both hands through my hair. How the hell am I going to close this deal?

With Moby blasting in my ears, I speed down Southwest Salmon Street toward the Willamette River. It's 6:30 in the morning, and I'm trying to clear my mind. Last night I dreamed about her. Brown eyes, a breathy voice—her sentences ending with "ma'am" as she kneels before me. Since I met her, my dreams have been a welcome change from the occasional nightmare. I wonder what Flynn would make of that. The thought is unnerving, so I ignore it and focus on pushing my body to its limits along the Willamette's bank. As my feet pound on the path, the sun comes through the clouds, and that gives me hope.

Two hours later, as I'm running back to the hotel, I pass a coffee shop. Maybe I should take her out for coffee. Like a date? Well. No. Not a date. I laugh at the ridiculous idea. Just a chat… an interview of sorts. Then I can find out a little more about this enigmatic woman and if she's interested or if I'm on a wild goose chase. I'm alone in the elevator as I stretch. Finishing my stretches in my hotel suite, I'm centered and calm for the first time since arriving in Portland. Breakfast has been delivered, and I'm starving. It's not a feeling I tolerate, ever. Sitting down to breakfast in my workout clothes, I decide to eat before showering. There's a brisk knock on the door. I open it, and Taylor stands in the doorway.

-Good morning, Mrs. Bishop."

-Good morning. All ready?

-Yes, ma'am. You're located in room 601."

-I'll be right down." I close the door and tuck my shirt into my gray slacks. My hair is wet from the shower, but I don't give a shit. One glance at the fucking gloom in the mirror and I step out to follow Taylor to the elevator. Room 601 is crowded with people, lights, and professional cameras, but I find her immediately. She's standing to the side. Her hair is down—a lush, glossy mane that falls below her breasts. She's wearing skinny jeans and Converse with a short-sleeved navy blazer and a white T-shirt underneath. Are jeans and Converse her signature style? While it's not exactly convenient, they flatter her shapely legs. Her eyes, lovely as ever, widen as I approach.

-Miss DeLuca, we meet again." She takes my outstretched hand, and for a moment I want to squeeze hers and lift it to my lips. "Don't be absurd, Bishop." She blushes again, deliciously, and points in the direction of her friend, who's standing too close, waiting for my attention.

-Ms. Bishop, this is Gabriella Aurora," she says. Reluctantly, I release her and turn to the persistent Miss Aurora. She's tall, striking, and meticulously neat like her father, but she has her mother's eyes, and I have to thank her for introducing me to the lovely Miss DeLuca. That thought makes me feel a little kinder toward her.

-The tenacious Miss Aurora. How are you? I hope you're feeling better. Carina said you were sick last week."

-I'm fine, thank you, Mrs. Bishop." She has a firm, confident handshake, and I doubt she'd ever face a difficult day in her privileged life. I wonder why these women are friends. They have nothing in common.

-Thank you for making time for the session," Gabriella says.

-It's my pleasure," I reply and glance at Carina, who rewards me with her telltale blush. Is it only me who makes her blush? The idea pleases me.

-This is Arizona Robbins, our photographer,” Carina says, her face lighting up as she introduces her to me. Holy shit. Is this the girlfriend?

Robbins blooms beneath Carina's sweet smile. "Are you two fucking?"

-Mrs. Bishop." Robbins gives me a dark look as we shake hands. It's a warning. She's telling me to back off. She likes her. Likes her a lot. Well, game on, kiddo.

-Miss, Robbins, where do you want me to stand?" My tone is challenging, and she hears it, but Gabriella intervenes, directing me to a chair. Oh. she likes to be in charge. The thought amuses me as I sit down. A young men who seems to be working with Robbins flips on the lights, and for a moment, I'm blinded. Damn! As the glare fades, I look around for the lovely Miss DeLuca. She's standing at the back of the room, watching the proceedings. Does she always shy away like this? Maybe that's why she and Aurora are friends; she's content to stay in the background, letting Gabriella take center stage.

Mmm… a natural submissive.

The photographer seems professional enough and absorbed in the work assigned to her. I watch Mrs. DeLuca as she watches us both. Our eyes meet; hers are honest and innocent, and for a moment I reconsider my plan. But then she bites her lip and my breath catches in my throat. Carina. I order her to stop staring and, as if she can hear me, she's the first to look away. Good girl.

Gabriella asks me to stand up while Robbins continues taking photographs. Then, we're finished and this is my chance.

-Thanks again, Mrs. Bishop." Gabriella steps forward and shakes my hand, followed by the photographer, who gives me a dirty look with veiled disapproval. Her antagonism makes me smile. "Oh, girl… you have no idea."

-I can't wait to read your article, Miss. Aurora," I say, giving her a brief, polite nod.

It's Carina I want to talk to.

-Would you come with me, Miss DeLuca?” I ask when I catch up with her at the door. –

-Sure,” she says in surprise. Seize the day, Bishop. I murmur some triviality to those still in the room and usher her through the door, wanting to put some distance between her and Robbins. In the hall, she pauses, playing with her hair, then her fingers, as Taylor follows me out.

-I’ll let you know, Taylor,” I say, and when she’s almost out of earshot, I ask Carina to join me for coffee, my breath caught at her response. Her long eyelashes flicker over her eyes.

-I have to get everyone home,” she says in dismay.

-Taylor,” I shout in her direction, making her jump. I must be making her nervous, and I don’t know if this is good or bad. And she can’t stop fidgeting. Thinking of all the ways I could make her stop is distracting.

-Are you going to college?” —She nods, and I ask Taylor to drive her friends home.

-Settled. Now can you come with me for coffee?”

-You see… Mrs. Bishop… erm… the truth…” she stops.

Shit. It’s a “no.” I’m going to miss this date?. She looks at me directly, her eyes twinkling.

-Look, there’s no need for Taylor to drive them to home. I can swap vehicles with Gabriella, if you’ll wait a moment.”

My relief is tangible, and I smile. “I have date!” Opening the door, I let her back into the room while Taylor hides her puzzled look.

-Can you take my jacket, Taylor?”

-Certainly, ma’am.” he turns on, his lips curving as he heads down the hallway. I watch him through narrowed eyes as he disappears into the elevator while I lean against the wall and wait for Miss DeLuca. What the hell am I going to say to her? “How much would you like to be my submissive?” No. Calm down, Bishop. Let's take this one step at a time. Taylor is back in a couple of minutes holding my jacket.

-Is that all, ma'am?"

-Yes. Thank you." he hands it to me and leaves me standing like an idiot in the hallway.

How much longer is it going to take Carina? I check my watch. She must be negotiating the car trade with Gabriella. Or she's talking to Robbins, explaining that she's only having coffee with me to placate me and keep me sweet for the article. My thoughts darken. Maybe she's kissing her goodbye. Damn. She emerges a moment later, and I'm pleased. She doesn't look like she's just been kissed.

-Okay," she says decisively.

-Let's get the coffee." But her flushed cheeks undermine some of her effort to look confident.

-After you, Miss DeLuca." I hide my delight as she takes a step in front of me. As I catch up, my curiosity is piqued about her relationship with Gabriella, specifically their compatibility. I ask how long they've known each other. "Since our freshman year. She's a good friend." Her voice is full of warmth. Carina is clearly devoted. She came all the way to Seattle to interview me when Gabriella was sick, and I find myself hoping Miss Aurora will treat her with the same loyalty and respect. In the elevators, I press the call button, and almost immediately the doors open.

A couple in a passionate embrace breaks away hastily, embarrassed at being caught. Ignoring them, we step into the elevator, but I catch Carina's mischievous smile. As we travel to the first floor, the atmosphere is thick with unfulfilled desire. And I don't know if it's emanating from the couple behind us or from me. Yes. I want her. Does she want what I have to offer? I'm relieved when the doors open again, and I take her hand, which is cool and not as sticky as I'd hoped. Maybe I don't affect her as much as I'd like. The thought is daunting. On our way over, we hear the couple's embarrassed laughter.

-What is it with elevators?" I murmur. And I have to admit, there's something wholesome and naive about their giggles that's totally charming. Miss DeLuca seems so innocent, just like them, and as we walk toward the street, I question my motives again. She's too young. Too inexperienced, but damn, I like the feel of her hand in mine. At the coffee shop, I direct her to find a table and ask what she'd like to drink. She stutters through her order: Black tea... hot water, with the tea bag on the side. That's new to me. "Don't you want coffee?" "Not now” "Okay, black tea. Sugar?" "No, thank you," she says, looking down at her fingers. "Something to eat?" "No, thank you."

She shakes her head and tosses her hair over her shoulder, highlighting flashes of gold. I have to wait in line while the two women behind the bar exchange stupid jokes with all their customers. It's frustrating and distracts me from my goal: Carina.

-Hey, beautiful, what can I do for you?" the older woman asks, a twinkle in her eye. It's just a pretty face, honey.

-I'll have a latte. Black tea. Tea bag on the side and a blueberry muffin. Carina might change her mind and eat.

-Are you visiting Portland?”

-Yes.”

-This weekend?”

-Yes.”

-The weather sure improved today.”

-Yes.”

-I hope you get some sunshine.

Please stop talking to me and hurry the fuck up.”

-Yes,” I hiss through my teeth and glance at Carina, who quickly looks away.
She's looking at me. Is she checking me out? A bubble of hope swells in my chest.

-Here you go." The woman gives me a wink and places the drinks on my tray.

-Pay at the register, honey, and have a nice day." I manage a cordial reply. "Thanks."

At the table, Carina is staring at her fingers, pondering who knows what the hell. About me?

-A dollar for your thoughts?" I ask. She jumps and turns red as I set down the tea and coffee. She sits mute and mortified. Why? Does she really not want to be here?

-Your thoughts?" I ask again, and she excessively moves the tea bag.

-This is my favorite tea," she says, and I make a mental note that Twinings English Breakfast is the tea she likes. I watch her put the tea bag in the teapot. It's an elaborate, messy spectacle. She takes it out almost immediately and places the used tea bag in its saucer.

My mouth is twitching with my amusement. As she tells me she likes her black tea weak, for a moment I think she's describing what she likes in a person. Pull yourself together, Bishop. She's talking about tea. Enough with this preamble; it's time for a little quick thinking on this matter.

-Is she your girlfriend?"

Her eyebrows draw together, forming a small v above her nose.

-Who?" This is a good answer.

-The photographer. Arizona Robbins."

She laughs. At me. At me! And I don't know if it's from relief or if she thinks I'm funny. It's annoying. I can't get the hang of it. Does she like me or not? She tells me she's just a friend. Oh, honey, she wants to be more than a friend.

-Why did you think she was my girlfriend?" she asks.

-Because of the way you smiled at her and she at you."

“You have no idea, do you? The girl is hurt."

-She's more like family," she says.

Okay, so the lust is one-sided, and for a moment I wonder if she even realizes how beautiful she is. She looks at the blueberry muffin as I peel off the paper and for a moment I imagine her on her knees beside me as I feed her, one bite at a time. The thought is fun…and exciting.

-Do you want some?” I ask. She shakes her head. -No, thanks.” Her voice is hesitant, and she looks once more at her hands. Why is she so nervous? Maybe because of me?

-And the girl you introduced me, yesterday, at the store. Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

-No. Nattie is just a friend. I told you that yesterday.” She frowns again as if she’s confused and crosses her arms in defense. She doesn’t like being questioned about these girls. I remember how uncomfortable she looked when the girl at the store put her arm around her, claiming her.

-Why are you asking me?” she adds.

- You seems nervous around them.”

Her eyes widen. They really are beautiful, her eyes are the color of deep, dark brown: warm and welcoming. Like the earth itself, her eyes are a beautiful, rooted presence, her eyes are as mysterious and intriguing, like a polished piece of obsidian.

Wait, What? Where did that come from? Bishop, Are you a poet?

-I find you intimidating,” she says, and looks down, once again contemplating her fingers.

On one level, she is so submissive, but on the other, she is… defiant. “I should find you intimidating. Yes. I should. There aren’t many people brave enough to tell me I intimidate them. She is honest, and I tell her so… but when she looks away, I don’t know what she is thinking. It is frustrating. Does she like me? Or is she tolerating this encounter to keep Aurora’s interview on track? Which is it?

-You are a mystery, Miss DeLuca.”

-There is nothing mysterious about me.”

-I think you are very contained.” Like any good submissive. “Except when you blushes, of course, which you do often.

I’d like to know why she blushed. There. That will provoke a response from you. Tossing a small piece of the blueberry muffin into my mouth, I wait for her response.

-Do you always make such personal comments?”

That’s not so personal, is it?” “I didn’t realize it was personal.

-Have I offended you?”

-No.”

-Fine.”

-But you are a little arrogant.”

-I usually do things my way, Carina. About everything.”

-I don’t doubt it,” she murmurs, and then she wants to know why I haven’t asked her to call me by my first name. “What?” And I remember her leaving my office in the elevator… and the way my name sounded coming out of her smart mouth. Has she seen through me? Is she being deliberately antagonistic toward me? I tell her no one calls me Maya, except my family… I don’t even know if that’s my real name. Don’t go there, Bishop. I change the subject. I want to know about her.

-Are you an only child?” Her eyelashes flutter several times before she tells me she is. “Tell me about your parents.” She rolls her eyes, and I have to fight the compulsion to scold her.

-My mother lives in Georgia with her new husband, Bob. My stepfather lives in Montesano.”

Of course, I know all this from Welch’s background check, but it’s important to hear it from her. Her lips soften into a fond smile when she mentions her stepfather.

-And your father?”

-My father died when I was a child.”

For a moment, I’m catapulted back into my nightmares, staring at a prostrate body on a dirty floor.

-I’m sorry,” I murmur.

-I don’t remember him,” she says, pulling me back to the now. Her expression is clear and bright, and I know Raymond DeLuca has been a good father to this girl. His relationship with her mother, on the other hand… remains to be seen.

-And did your mother remarry?” Her laugh is bitter.

-Yes.” But she doesn’t go into details. She’s one of the few women I’ve ever met who can sit in silence. Which is great, but not what I want right now.” “You don´t tell too much about your life, don´t you?”

-Nor do you,” she dodges. Oh, Miss DeLuca. The game is on. And it’s with great pleasure and a smile that I remind her that she’s already interviewed me.

-I remember some rather personal questions.

Yes. You asked me if I was gay. My statement has the desired effect, and she’s embarrassed. She begins to babble about herself, and a few details hit the mark. Her mother is a hopeless romantic. I suppose someone on their fourth marriage is embracing hope over experience. Is she like her mother? I don’t dare ask her. If she says she is… then I have no hope. And I don’t want this interview to end. I’m having too much fun. I ask about her stepfather, and she confirms my hunch. It’s obvious she loves him. Her face lights up when she talks about him: his job (he's a carpenter), his hobbies (he likes European soccer and fishing). She chose to live with him when her mother remarried. Interesting. She straightens her shoulders.

-Tell me about your parents - she demands in an attempt to steer the conversation away from her family. I don't like talking about mine, so I give her vague details. "My father is a lawyer and my mother is a pediatrician. They live in Seattle." "What do your siblings do? Do you want to go there?" I give her the short answer, that Jack works in construction and Andy is in culinary school in Paris. She listens, enraptured.

-I've heard Paris is beautiful," she says with a dreamy expression.

-It's pretty. Have you been there?"

- I’ve never been outside the United States. Well, since I came from Italy to America, I don't remember much about Italy." The cadence of her voice drops, tinged with regret. I could take her there.

"Would you like to go? To Paris?

-Of course. But where I'd really like to go is England. Her face lights up with excitement.

Miss DeLuca wants to travel. But why England? I ask.

-Because Shakespeare, Austen, the Brontë sisters, Thomas Hardy were born there—I'd like to see the places that inspired them to write such wonderful books.”

Books. She said it yesterday at Clayton's. That means I'm competing with Darcy, Rochester, and Angel Clare: impossible Romantic heroes. Here's the proof I needed. She's a hopeless romantic, like her mother—and this isn't going to work. To add insult to injury, she looks at her watch. She's done. I've blown this arrangement. “I'd better go. I have to study,” she says. I offer to walk her back to her friend's car, which means I'll have to walk back to the hotel to pack my bag.

But should I? “Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Bishop,” she says. “You’re welcome, Carina. It’s a pleasure.” As I say the words, I realize the last twenty minutes have been…pleasant.

Giving her my most dazzling, guaranteed-to-disarm smile, I offer her my hand. “Come on,” I say. She takes my hand, and as we walk back to the Heathman, I can’t shake how nice her hand feels in mine. Maybe this could work.

-Do you always wear jeans?” I ask.

-Mostly,” she says, and it’s strike two against her: hopeless romantic, only wears jeans… I like skirts on my women. I like them approachable.

-Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks out of nowhere, and it’s strike three. I’m out of this budding arrangement. She wants romance, and I can’t offer her that.

-No, Carina.” I don't have girlfriends. Brow scrunched, she turns abruptly and stumbles into the road.

-Shit, Carina!" I yell, pulling her toward me to break her fall into the path of an idiot cyclist flying by on the wrong side of the street. Suddenly, she's in my arms, looking up at me. Her eyes are scared, and for the first time I notice a darker ring circling her irises; they're beautiful, more beautiful up close. Her pupils dilate, and I know I could fall into that gaze and never return. She takes a deep breath.

- Are you okay?" My voice sounds strange and distant, and I realize she's touching me, and I don't care. My fingers stroke her cheek. Her skin is soft and smooth, and as I brush my thumb against her lower lip, my breath catches in my throat. Her body is pressed against mine, and the feel of her breasts and their heat through my shirt is arousing. She has a fresh, wholesome fragrance that reminds me of my grandfather's apple orchard. Closing my eyes, I inhale, etching her scent into my memory. When I open them, she's still looking at me, pleading, begging, her eyes on my mouth. Shit. She wants me to kiss her. And I want too. Just once. Her lips are parted, ready, waiting. Her mouth feels welcoming beneath my thumb.

Notes:

This is getting more and more interesting

Chapter 7 Summary:

I have some free time this days so, let's go with chapters.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Carina´s POV

Kiss me, damn it! I beg her mentally, but I can't move. A strange, unfamiliar desire paralyzes me. I'm completely captivated. I stare, fascinated, at Maya Bishop's mouth, and she's staring back at me, her gaze veiled, her eyes growing more imperceptible. She's breathing faster than usual, and I've stopped breathing. I'm in your arms. Kiss me, please. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and moves her head slightly, as if in response to my silent request. When she opens them again, her resolve has returned, her decision ironclad.

-Carina, you should stay away from me. I'm not a good woman for you," she sighs.

"What? What's this about? I'm supposed to be the one deciding this." I frown and shake my head. "Breathe, Carina, breathe."

-I’m going to help you up and let you go,” she says softly. And she gently pushes me aside. Adrenaline has surged through my body, whether from the cyclist who almost hit me or from Maya’s intoxicating proximity, and I feel paralyzed and weak. NO! my mind screams as she pulls away, leaving me helpless. She places her hands on my shoulders, some distance away, and watches my reaction closely. And all I can think is that I wanted her to kiss me, that it was obvious, but she didn’t. She doesn’t want me. The truth is, she doesn’t want me. I completely blew the date.

-I want to tell you something,” I say, once I’ve found my voice. - Thank you,” I mutter, drowning in humiliation.

How could I have so misread the situation between us? I have to step away from her.

-Why?” She frowns. She hasn't removed her hands from my shoulders.

-for save me,” I whisper.

-That idiot was going the wrong way. I'm glad I was here. I get chills just thinking about what could have happened to you. Do you want to come sit at the hotel for a minute?” She lets go and drops her hands.

I'm standing right in front of her, feeling like a fool. I try to clear my head. I just want to leave. All my vague, incoherent hopes have been dashed. She doesn't want me. “What was I thinking?” I scold myself. “What would Maya Bishop be interested in you?” my subconscious taunts. I throw my arms around myself, turn back toward the road, and see with relief that the little green man has appeared at the light. I cross quickly, aware that Bishop is following me. In front of the hotel, I turn my face toward her for a moment, but I can't meet her gaze.

-Thanks for the tea and the photo shoot," I murmur.

-Carina... I..." She trails off. Her anguished tone catches my attention, so I involuntarily glance at her. She runs her hand through her hair, her gaze desolate. She looks devastated, frustrated, and her expression disturbed. Her cautious control is gone.

-What, Maya?" I ask abruptly when I see that she doesn't say anything. I want to leave. I need to take my fragile, wounded pride with me and nurse it back to health.

-Good luck on your exams," she murmurs.

"What? Is that why you look so devastated? Is this your fantastic goodbye? Wishing me luck on my exams?"

-Thank you," I reply without concealing my sarcasm. - Goodbye, Mrs. Bishop." I turn around, a little surprised that I don't stumble, and without looking back at her, I disappear down the sidewalk toward the Underground parking. Back in the dark, cold cement of the parking lot, under its dim fluorescent light, I lean against the wall and cover my face with my hands. What was I thinking? I can't stop the tears from welling up in my eyes. Why am I crying? I sink to the floor, angry at myself for this absurd reaction. I draw my knees up and wrap my arms around them. I want to make myself as small as possible. Maybe this crazy pain will be less the smaller I make myself. I rest my head on my knees and let the irrational tears flow unchecked. I'm grieving the loss of something I've never had. How ridiculous. Mourning the loss of something that never existed... my dashed hopes, my dashed dreams, and my shattered expectations. I've never been rejected before. Okay, I was always one of the last ones picked to play basketball or volleyball, but I understood that. Running and doing something else at the Jacke time, like dribbling or throwing a ball, isn't my thing. I'm a total loser at any sport.
But when it comes to relationships, I've never really put myself out there. I've been very insecure all my life. I'm too pale, too thin, too scruffy, clumsy, and so many other flaws, so I've always been the one who's rejected any potential admirer. In my chemistry class, there was a girl who liked me, but no one ever caught my eye… No one except that damn Maya Bishop. Maybe I should be nicer to people like...Nattie and Arizona, although I'm sure neither of us ended up crying alone in the dark. Maybe I just need to have a good cry.
Enough! Enough already! my subconscious metaphorically screams at me, arms crossed, leaning on one leg and tapping the floor with the other. Get in the car, go home, and start studying. Forget her… right now! And stop feeling sorry for yourself, beating yourself up, and all that crap. I take a few deep breaths and stand up. Cheer up, DeLuca. I head over to Gabriella's car, wiping away my tears. I won't think about her again. I'll mark this incident on my list of life experiences and focus on exams. When I arrive, Gabriella is sitting at the dining room table with her laptop. The smile she wears as she greets me vanishes as soon as she sees me.

-Carina, what's wrong?" Oh, no… Saintly Inquisitor Gabriella Aurora. I shake my head the way she does when she wants to convey she's in the mood for stories, but it's no use.

-You cried." She has a knack for stating the obvious sometimes.

-What did that bitch do to you?" she snarls, her face frozen in fear.

-Nothing, Gabriella." Actually, that's the problem. Thinking about it, she smiles wryly.

-So why did you cry? You never cry," she says, her tone softer. She stands up. Her eyes are worried. She hugs me. I have to say whatever I can to get her off me.

-I almost got hit by a cyclist." It's the best thing I can think of to say to her that'll make her forget about Bishop for a moment.

-Oh my God, Carina... Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" She pulls back a little, giving me a quick once-over, checking if everything's okay.

-No. Maya saved me," I whisper.

-No wonder. How was your coffee?"

-I had some tea. It went well. Nothing to say, really. I don’t know why she asked me for it.”

-She likes you, Carina,” she says, letting go of me.

-Not anymore. I’m not going to see her again.” Yeah, I manage to sound like I don’t care.

-What?

Damn. She’s intrigued. I duck into the kitchen so she can’t see my face.

-Yeah… she doesn’t really have much to do with me, Gabriella,” I say as coolly as I can.

-What do you mean?”

-Gabriella, it’s obvious.” I turn and I stand in front of her, who’s standing in the kitchen doorway.

-Not to me,” she says. - Okay, so she has more money than you, but she has more money than almost everyone in this country.”

-Gabriella, it’s…” I shrug.

-Carina, please! How many times do I have to tell you? You’re such a Kid,” she interrupts.

Oh no. Here we go again.

-Gabriella, please, I have to study,” I cut her off. She pouts.

-Want to see the article? It’s over. Arizona took some great pictures.

Now I have to see the beautiful Maya Bishop, who has no interest in me whatsoever?”

-Sure.” I pull a smile from my sleeve and walk over to my laptop. And there she is, staring back at me in black and white, staring at me and finding me unworthy of her interest. I pretend to read the article, but I don't tear my eyes away from her steady blue gaze. I search the photo for some clue as to why she's not the woman for me, like she's told me. And suddenly it seems obvious. She's very sexy. We're polar opposites, and from two very different worlds. I see myself like Icarus when she gets too close to the sun, burns, and crashes. She's right. She's not the woman for me. That's what she meant to tell me, and that makes it easier to accept her rejection… Well, almost. I can bear it. I understand her.

-Okay, Gabriella," I manage to say. - I'm going to study."

I resolve not to think about her again for the moment. I open my notes and begin to read. Only when I'm in bed, trying to sleep, do I allow my thoughts to move on to my strange morning. I keep thinking about what she told me about not having any girlfriends, and I'm angry that I didn't take that information into account before I was in her arms, mentally begging her with every pore of my skin to kiss me. She'd said it. She didn't want me as a girlfriend. I lie on my side. I wonder if maybe she doesn't have sex. I close my eyes and start to doze off. Maybe she's saving herself. Well, not for you. My sleepy subconscious gives me one last whack before it plunges into my dreams. And that night I dream of blue eyes and drawings of leaves in the milk foam, and I run through places dimly lit by a ghostly light, and I don't know if I'm running toward something or away from something… It's not clear.
I put down my pen. It's over. I finished my last exam. I grinned from ear to ear. It's probably the first time I smiled all week. It's Friday, and tonight we'll celebrate. We'll celebrate in style. I'll probably even get drunk. I've never been drunk. I glance over at Gabriella, who's at the other end of the class. Five minutes until the end of the exam. This is it. My academic career is over. I won't have to sit in rows of nervous students again. In my mind, I'm doing funny cartwheels, even though I know full well that my cartwheels can only be funny in my mind. Gabriella stops writing and puts down her pen. She looks at me too, grinning from ear to ear.
On the way home in her Mercedes, we refuse to talk about the exam. Gabriella is much more concerned with what she's going to wear tonight. I try to find my keys in my bag.

-Carina, there's a package for you." Gabriella is on the stairs outside the front door, holding a package wrapped in wrapping paper. That's weird. I don't remember ordering anything from Amazon. Gabriella hands me the package and takes my keys to unlock the door. The package is addressed to Miss Carina DeLuca. There's no return address. Maybe it's from my mom or Ray. "Probably from my parents."

-Open it!" Gabriella exclaims nervously. She goes into the kitchen to get the champagne with which we're going to celebrate finishing the exams. I open the package and find a leather case containing three old, seemingly identical books, cloth-covered, in perfect condition, and a white card. On one side, in black ink and beautiful handwriting, it reads: I recognize the quote from Tess. I'm struck by the coincidence that I just spent three hours writing about Thomas Hardy novels for my final. Maybe it's not a coincidence... maybe it's deliberate. I look at the books carefully.
Three volumes of Tess of the d'Urbervilles. I open the cover of one. On the first page, in antique type, I read: These are first editions! They must be worth a fortune, and I immediately know who sent them. Gabriella looks at the books over my shoulder. She takes the card.

-First editions,” I whisper.

-No…” she says, her eyes widening in disbelief. - Bishop?” I nod.

-I can’t think of anyone else.”

-What does the card mean?”

-I have no idea. I think it’s a warning… Honestly, she keeps warning me. I have no idea why. It’s not like I’ve been kicking her down, exactly,” I say, frowning.

-I know you don’t want to talk about her, Carina, but she’s definitely interested in you, whether she warns you or not.”

I haven’t let myself think about Maya Bishop much in the last week. Well… her blue eyes keep invading my brain, and I know it will take forever to erase the feeling of her arms around me and her wonderful smell from my brain. Why did she send me these books? She told me I wasn't for her.

-I found a first edition of Tess for sale in New York for fourteen thousand dollars, but yours are in much better condition. They must have cost more,” Gabriella tells me, consulting her good friend Google.

-The quote…” Tess tells her mother this after what Alec d'Urberville does to her.

-I know,” Gabriella answers thoughtfully. - What's she trying to say?”

-I don't know, and I don't care. I can't take them. I'll send them back with another quote just as baffling as this one from some obscure part of the book.”

-The passage where Angel Clare tells her to fuck off?” Gabriella asks me very seriously.

-Yeah, that one,” I answer, laughing.

I love Gabriella. She's loyal and supportive. I wrap the books and leave them on the dining room table. Gabriella offers me a glass of champagne.

-To the end of exams and our new life in Seattle,” she says with a smile.

-To the end of exams, our new life in Seattle, and I hope everything goes well for us.

We clink glasses and drink.

The bar is noisy and crowded, with soon-to-be graduates out for a good, long drink. Arizona came with us. She won't graduate until next year, but she was in the mood to go out. She brings us a pitcher of margaritas to get us in the mood for our newfound freedom. As I down my fifth glass, I think it's not a good idea to drink so many margaritas after the champagne.

-So what now, Carina?" Arizona yells at me.

-Gabriella and I are moving to Seattle.

Gabriella's parents bought her a condo."

-God, some people live their lives… But you'll be back for my presentation, right?"

-Of course, Arizona. I wouldn't miss it for the world," I reply, smiling. She puts her arm around my waist and pulls me close.

-It's really important to me that you come, Carina," she whispers in my ear. - Another margarita?

-Arizona Robbins… are you trying to get me drunk? Because I think you're getting there,” I say, laughing. -I think I might as well have a beer. I'll get us all a pitcher.”

-More drinks, Carina!” Gabriella shouts. Gabriella is as tough as a tack. She's got her arm around Levi, a classmate from English and her regular photographer for the school magazine, who's stopped snapping the drunks around him. He only has eyes for Gabriella, who's dressed in a tiny top, tight jeans, and high heels. Her hair is pulled back, with a few curly strands falling gracefully around her face. She looks stunning, as always. I'm more of a Converse and T-shirt kind of girl, but I've changed into the jeans that look best on me. I push away from Arizona and stand up from our table. Ugh, my head is spinning. I have to hold on to the back of my chair. Tequila cocktails aren't a good idea. I head to the bar and decide I should use the bathroom while I'm still standing. Good thinking, Carina. I stagger through the crowd. Of course there's a line, but at least the aisle is quiet and cool. I pull out my phone to pass the time while I wait. Let's see... what was my last call?
Arizona? There's a number before that, and I don't know whose it is. Oh, yeah. Bishop. I think it's her number. I laugh. I have no idea what time it is. Maybe it'll wake her up. Maybe she can explain why she sent me those books and that cryptic message. If she wants me to stay away from her, she should just leave me alone. I suppress a drunken grin and hit the call button. She answers on the second ring.

-Carina?"

She's surprised I called. Well, I'm surprised I'm calling her. Then my addled brain wonders how she knows it's me.

-Why did you send me those books?" I drawl.

-Carina, are you okay? You have a funny voice," she says, sounding very concerned.

-It's not me that's weird, it's you," I say, buoyed by the alcohol.

-Carina, have you been drinking?"

-What do you care?"

-I'm just... curious. Where are you?”

-At a bar.”

-What bar?” she asks nervously.

-A bar in Portland.”

-How are you going to get home?”

-I’ll figure it out.” This conversation isn’t going the way I expected.

-Which bar are you at?”

-Why did you send me those books, Maya?”

-Carina, where are you? Tell me right now.”

Her tone is so… so dictatorial. The same old control freak. I picture her as an old-fashioned film director, complete with jodhpurs, an old-fashioned megaphone, and a riding crop. The image makes me laugh out loud.

-You’re so… dominant,” I say, laughing.

-Carina, answer me: Where the fuck are you?”

Maya Bishop swearing. I laugh again.

-In Portland… Pretty far from Seattle.”

-Where exactly?”

-Goodnight, Maya.”

-Carina!” I hang up.

Oh, she didn’t say anything about the books. I frown. Mission unaccomplished. I’m pretty drunk, really. My head spins as I move forward in line. Well, the goal was to get drunk, and I succeeded. I see how it is… I’m afraid it doesn’t bear repeating. The line has moved forward and now it’s my turn. Damn, did I just call Maya Bishop? Shit. My phone rings, and I jump and scream in fright.

-Hi,” I say quietly. I hadn’t expected her to call.

-I'm coming to find you,” she says.

And she hangs up. Only Maya Bishop could speak so calmly and sound so menacing at the same time. Damn. I pull up my jeans. My heart is racing. Is she coming to find me? Oh, no. I'm going to throw up… no… I'm fine. Wait. I'm making up a movie. I didn't tell her where I was. She can't find me. Besides, it would take hours to get there from Seattle, and we'd be long gone by then. I wash my hands and check myself in the mirror.

I'm red-faced and slightly out of focus. Ugh… tequila. I wait at the bar for ages, until I get a large pitcher of beer, and finally I go back to the table.

-You took forever,” Gabriella scolds me.

-Where were you?”

-Lined up for the bathroom.”

Arizona and Levi are arguing heatedly about our town's baseball team. Arizona interrupts her rant to pour us beer, and I take a long swig.

-Gabriella, I think I'll step outside for a second to get some fresh air."

-Carina, you are a kid”

-Just five minutes."

I push my way back through the crowd. I'm starting to feel nauseous, my head is spinning, and I feel unsteady. Unsteadier than usual. As I drink outside in the parking lot, I realize how drunk I am. I can't see properly. Honestly, everything is in double vision, like in old reruns of Tom and Jerry. I think I'm going to throw up. How did I end up like this?

-Carina, are you okay?"

Arizona has come out of the bar and approached me.

-I think I had a little too much to drink,” I reply, smiling.

-Me too,” she murmurs. Her clear eyes are fixed on mine.

-Shall I give you a hand?” she asks, moving closer and wrapping her arms around me.

-Arizona, I’m fine. It’s okay.” I try to push her away lightly.

-Carina, please,” she whispers. She grabs me and pulls me towards her.

-Arizona, what are you doing?”

-You know I like you, Carina. Please.”

With one hand, she holds me against her, and with the other, she grabs my chin and tilts my face up.

She’s going to kiss me!

-No, Arizona, stop…No.”

I push her, but she won't let me move, so I can’t move. She’s shoved her hand in my hair, holding my head still.

-Please, Carina, baby,” she whispers, her lips very close to mine. Her breath is shallow. She smells like margaritas and beer. She starts running her lips down my jaw, nearing the corner of my mouth. I’m so nervous and drunk and out of control. I feel overwhelmed.

-Arizona, no,” I beg.

I don’t want you. You’re my friend, and I think I’m going to throw up.

-I think the lady said no,” a quiet voice says in the darkness.

Oh my God! Maya Bishop. She’s here. What? Arizona lets go of me.

-Bishop,” Arizona says tersely.

I look at Maya in distress, who glares at Arizona. Shit. I gag and lean forward. My body can’t handle the alcohol anymore, and I vomit heavily on the floor.

-Ugh, my God, Carina!”

Arizona jumps back in disgust. Maya grabs my hair, pushes it away from my face, and gently leads me to the end of the parking lot. I'm grateful that it's relatively dark.

-If you're going to throw up again, do it here. I hold you.

She's put one arm around my shoulders, her other hand holding my hair back, as if to put it in a ponytail, so it won't fly into my face. I fumble with it, but I throw up again… and again. Oh, shit… How long is this going to last? Even though my stomach is empty and nothing's coming out, horrific gag reflexes rack my body. I promise myself I'll never drink again. It's too embarrassing to explain. To avoid gagging. I've put my hands on the floor but they're barely holding me up. Throwing up so much is exhausting. Maya Bishop lets go of me and offers me a handkerchief. Only she could afford a freshly laundered silk scarf with her initials embroidered on it…MB
I didn't know you could still buy these things. For a moment, as I wipe my mouth, I don't dare look at her. I'm mortified. I feel disgusted. I want to be swallowed up by the azaleas in the flowerbed and disappear from here.

Arizona is still hovering by the bar door, watching us. I groan and rest my head in my hands. This has to be the worst moment of my life. My head is still spinning as I try to remember a worse moment, and the only one I can think of is Maya's rejection, but this one is fifty times more humiliating. I risk a quick glance at her. She's staring at me, her face level, expressionless. I turn and look at Arizona, who also seems as embarrassed and intimidated by Bishop as I am. I glare at her. I can think of a few words to describe my so-called friend, but I can't say them in front of entrepreneur Maya Bishop. Carina, who are you kidding? She just saw you vomiting on the floor and the local floor. Your unrefined behavior has been more than evident.

-Well... I'll see you inside," Arizona mumbles.

But we ignore her, so she goes back inside the bar. I'm alone with Maya. Shit, shit. What can I say? I can apologize for calling her.

-I’m sorry,” I whisper, staring at the handkerchief, which I keep twisting between my fingers. It’s so soft.

-What are you feeling, Carina?” Damn it, she wants her reward.

-Especially calling you. Being dizzy. Ugh, the list is endless,” I murmur, feeling myself turn red. Please, please, let me die right now.

-This happened to all of us, maybe not as dramatically as it has to you,” she replies tersely. -It’s a matter of knowing your limits, Carina. Well, I like to push the boundaries, but this is really too much. Do you often behave like this?

My head is ringing from too much alcohol and my anger. What the hell does she care? I didn’t invite her here. She sounds like a grown woman scolding me like I’m a wayward child. Part of me wants to tell her that if I want to get drunk every night, that's my business and she's cool with it, but I don't have the courage. Not now, when I just threw up in front of her. Why is she still here?

-No," I say ruefully. -I've never been drunk before, and right now, I don't feel like doing that again."

I really don't understand why she's here. I'm starting to feel dizzy. She notices, catches me before I fall, lifts me up, and holds me against her breasts, like I'm a little girl. Ugh, God!

-Come on, I'll take you home," she murmurs.

-I have to tell Gabriella." I'm back in her arms.

-My brother can tell her."

-What?"

-My brother Jack is talking to Miss Aurora."

-How? I don't understand."

-He was with me when you called."

-In Seattle?" I ask, confused.

-No. I'm at the Heathman.

Still?" Why?

-How did you find me?

-I tracked your phone, Carina.

Of course. How is that possible? Is it legal? Stalker, my subconscious whispers through the tequila cloud still floating in my brain, but for some reason, because it's her, I don't care.

-Did you bring a jacket or a bag?

-Yes, both. Maya, please, I have to tell Gabriella. She'll worry. She presses her lips together and sighs loudly.

- Fine…” She lets go, takes my hand, and heads toward the bar. I feel weak, still drunk, uncomfortable, exhausted, embarrassed, and, oddly enough, thrilled. She leads me. It’s a confusing array of emotions. It’ll take me at least a week to process them all.

The bar is noisy and crowded, and the music has started pumping, so the dance floor is full. Gabriella isn’t at our table, and Arizona has disappeared. Levi, standing alone, looks lost and helpless.

-Where’s Gabriella?” I call out to Levi. My head starts pounding to the thumping bass of the music.

-Dancing,” Levi answers. I can tell he’s angry and looking at Maya suspiciously. I reach for my black jacket and sling my small purse over my shoulder crossed, which sits at my hip. I'm ready to leave as soon as I've spoken to Gabriella.

I touch Maya's arm, lean toward her, and yell in her ear that Gabriella is on the dance floor. I brush my nose against her hair and breathe in the scent of her expensive perfume. All the forbidden, unfamiliar sensations I've been trying to deny rise to the surface and course through my exhausted body. My face flushes, and deep within me, muscles tense pleasantly. She rolls her eyes, takes my hand again, and heads for the bar, She's waited on immediately. Mrs. Bishop, the control freak, doesn't have to wait. Is everything that easy for her? I can't hear what she orders. She offers me a large glass of ice water.

-Drink," she orders. The spotlights spin in time with the music, creating strange colored lights and shadows around the bar and on the customers. Bishop goes from green to blue to white to demonic red. She stares at me. I take a small sip.

-Drink it all,” she yells.

So bossy. She runs a hand through her straight, perfectly styled hair. She looks flustered, angry. What’s wrong with her? other than some stupid drunk girl called her in the middle of the night and she thought she had to come rescue her? And it turned out she did have to rescue her from her overly affectionate friend. And then she had to watch the overly affectionate girl get dizzy. Oh, Carina… will you ever forget this? My subconscious clicks its tongue and peers at me over the tops of her half-moon glasses. I stumble a little, and Bishop puts his hand on my shoulder to steady me. I follow her advice and down the whole glass. It makes me dizzy.

She takes the glass from me and sets it on the bar. I watch through a kind of haze what she’s wearing: a tight blue silk button-down shirt, skinny jeans, black Converse, and a black leather jacket. Her shirt collar is unbuttoned, and I can see her round, full breasts peeking out. Even in my dazed state, I think she's damn sexy. She takes my hand again and leads me toward the dance floor. Shit. I didn't dance. She can tell I don't want to, and in the colored lights, I see her amused, mocking smile. She tugs hard on my hand, and I fall back into her arms. She starts moving, sweeping me along with her movements. Wow, she can dance, and I can't believe I'm actually following along. Maybe I'm just drunk. She pulls me against her body… If she wasn't holding me so tightly, I'd probably collapse at her feet. From the back of my mind echoes what my mother always warned me: “Never trust a good dancer.” We make our way through the crush of dancers to the other end of the floor and find Gabriella and Maya’s brother, Jack. Music is blaring outside and inside my head. Oh no. Gabriella is making her move. She’s dancing her ass off, and she only does that when she likes someone. When she really likes someone. Which means there will be three of us by breakfast tomorrow.

Maya leans over and yells in Jack's ear. I can't hear what she's saying. Jack is tall, broad-shouldered and wickedly bright eyes. The flickering of the headlights makes it hard to see what color they are. Jack laughs, pulls Gabriella into his arms, where she seems to be loving life... Gabriella! Even in my drunken state, I'm shocked. She just met him. She nods at Jack, smiles at me, and waves goodbye.

Maya moves quickly and quickly off the dance floor. But I haven't spoken to Gabriella. Is she okay? I can see how this is going to play out between those two. I need to give her a lecture about safe sex. Thoughts are racing through my brain, fighting against the hazy feeling of drunkenness. It's too hot in here, too loud, too many colors… too many lights. My head is spinning. Oh no… I feel the floor rise up around my face, or so it seems. The last thing I hear before I pass out in Maya Bishop's arms is her swearing.

-Fuck!"

Notes:

I hate Arizona and point for our favorite dominant Maya Bishop.

Chapter 8 Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Maya's POV

No. No. No. Don't do this, Bishop.

She's not the type of girl for you. She wants hearts and flowers, and you don't do that shit. I close my eyes so I don't see her and fight the temptation, and when I open them again, my mind's made up.

-Carina," I whisper, -You should stay away from me. I'm not a good woman for you."
The small v forms between her brows, and I think she's stopped breathing. "Breathe, Carina, breathe." I need to let her go before she does something stupid, but I'm surprised by my reluctance. I want to hold her longer…I want to Kiss her.

-I'm going to help you stand and let you go." I take a step back, and she releases her grip on me, but strangely, I feel no relief. I slide my hands over her shoulders to make sure she can stand. Her expression clouds with humiliation. She's mortified by my rejection.
Damn. I didn't mean to hurt you.

-I’m fine now,” she says, disappointment buzzing in her clipped tone. She’s formal and distant, but she doesn’t move from my grasp.

-Thank you,” she adds.

-For what?”

-For saving me. And I want to tell her I’m saving her from me—which is a noble gesture, but that’s not what she wants to hear.

-That idiot was going the wrong way. I’m glad I was here. I get chills just thinking about what could have happened to you.” Now I’m the one babbling, and I still can’t let her go. I offer to sit with her at the hotel, knowing it’s to prolong my time with her and only then release her. She shakes her head, her back stiff, and she wraps her arms around me protectively.
A moment later, she flees across the street, and I have to hurry to keep up. When we reach the hotel, she turns and faces me, once again serene.

-Thanks for the tea and the photo shoot.” “She looks at me dispassionately, and regret ignites in my gut.

-Carina… I…” I can’t think of what to say except I’m sorry.”

-What, Maya?” she asks sharply.

“Geez. She’s angry with me, pouring all the contempt she can into every syllable of my name. It’s uncharacteristic. And she’s leaving. And I don’t want her to go, I want her so much…Bishop, What’s wrong with you?”

-Good luck on your tests.” Her eyes flicker with pain and indignation.

-Thank you,” she murmurs, disdain thick with her voice. -Goodbye, Mrs. Bishop.” She turns and strides down the street toward the underground parking garage.
I watch her go, hoping she’s going to give me a second glance, but she doesn’t. She disappears into the building, leaving in her wake a trail of regret, the memory of her beautiful brown eyes, and the scent of an apple orchard in the fall. You are an Idiot MAyaa Bishop, a truly…idiot.

-No!” My scream echoes off the walls of the room and wakes me from my nightmare. I’m covered in sweat, with the stench of stale beer, cigars, and poverty in my nostrils and a lingering fear of drunken violence. Sitting up, I put my head in my hands as I try to calm my intense heartbeat and erratic breathing. It’s been the Jacke for the past four nights. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s 3:00 a.m. I have two important meetings tomorrow… today… and I need a clear head and some sleep. Damn, what I wouldn’t give for a good night’s sleep. And I have a fucking golf game with Bastille. I should cancel golf; the thought of playing and losing darkens my already grim mood. Scrambling out of bed, I wander down the hall and head for the kitchen. There, I fill a glass with water and look at me, dressed in only a top and pajama pants, reflected in the glass wall across the room. I turn away in disgust.

You rejected her. She loved you. And you rejected her. It was for her own good.

This has bothered me for days. Her beautiful face pops into my mind without warning, mocking me. If my psychiatrist had just returned from his vacation in England, I could call him. His cheap, fucking psychology would stop me from feeling this bad.

Bishop, she was just a pretty girl.

Maybe I need a distraction; a new submissive, perhaps. It's been too long since Susannah. I contemplate calling Elena in the morning. She always finds suitable candidates for me. But the truth is, I don't want anyone new. I want Carina, I just want her so bad. Her disappointment, her hurt spite, and her contempt remain with me. She walked away without a backward glance. Maybe I raised her hopes by inviting her out for coffee, only to let her down. Maybe I should find some way to apologize, then I can forget about this whole sorry episode and get the girl out of my head. Leaving the glass in the sink for my housekeeper to wash, I trudge to bed.

The radio alarm jolts to life at a quarter to six in the morning as I'm staring at the ceiling. I haven't slept and I'm exhausted. Fuck! This is ridiculous. The program on the radio is a welcome distraction until the second news item. It's about the sale of a rare manuscript: an unfinished Jane Austen novel called The Watsons that's being auctioned in London.

-Books,” she said. Christ. Even the news reminds me of Little Miss Bookworm. She's a hopeless romantic who loves the English classics. But so do I, though for different reasons. I don't own any first editions of Jane Austen, or the Brontës, for that matter… but I do own two by Thomas Hardy. Of course! That's it! This is what I can do. Moments later, I'm in the library with Jude the Obscure and a three-volume set of Tess of the d'Urbervilles spread out on the billiard table in front of me. Both are grim books, with tragic themes. Hardy had a dark and twisted soul. As do I. I push the thought away and scan the books. Though Jude is in better condition, he's no competition. In Jude, there is no redemption, so I'll send him Tess, with a suitable quote. I know it's not the most romantic book, considering the evils that befall the heroine, but it does have a brief taste of romantic love in the bucolic idyll that is the English countryside. And Tess gets revenge on the man who wronged her. But that's not the point. Carina mentioned Hardy as one of her favorites, and I'm sure she's never seen, much less owned, a first edition. "You sound like the epitome of a consumer." Her critical rebuttal to the interview comes back to haunt me. Yes. I like owning things—things that will increase in value, like first editions. Feeling calmer and more serene, and a little pleased with myself, I head to my closet and change into my suit.

In the backseat of my car, I flip through the first edition of Tess, looking for a quote, and at the Jacke time I wonder when Carina's last exam will be. I read the book many years ago and have a fuzzy memory of the plot. Fiction was my sanctuary when I was a teenager. My mother always marveled that I read; Jack, not so much. He craved the escape that fiction provided. He didn't need an escape.

-Mrs. Bishop," Taylor interrupts. - We're here, ma'am." He gets out of the car and opens my door. - I'll be out at two to take you to your golf game." I nod and walk into the Bishop House, the books tucked under my arm. The young receptionist greets me with a flirtatious gesture.
Every day… Like a cheesy song on repeat. Ignoring her, I head toward the elevator that will take me directly to my office.

-Good morning, Mrs. Bishop,” Barry from security greets me as he presses the button to call the elevator.

-How is your son, Barry?”

-Better, ma’am.”

-I’m glad to hear that.” I step into the elevator, and it shoots up to the twentieth floor.

Andrea is available to greet me.

-Good morning, Mrs. Bishop. Vic wants to see you to discuss the Darfur project. Barney would like a few minutes…” I raise my hand to silence her.

-Forget those, for now. Get Welch on the line and find out when Flynn is returning from his vacation. Once I’ve spoken with Welch, we can resume the day’s agenda.”

-Yes, ma’am.”

-And I need a double espresso. Get Olivia to fix it for me.” But, glancing around, I notice Olivia is absent. It’s a relief. The girl is always daydreaming about me and it's fucking irritating.

-Do you want it with milk, ma'am?” Andrea asks. Good girl. I smile at her.

-Not today.” I like to keep them guessing about how I take my coffee.”

-Very good, Mrs. Bishop.” She looks pleased with herself, which she should be. She's the best PA I've ever had. Three minutes later, she has Welch on the line.

-Welch?”

-Mrs. Bishop, listen…the background check you ran for me last week. Carina DeLuca. Student at Washington State.”

-Yes, ma'am. I remember.”

-I'd like to know when her last final exam is and please let me know as a matter of priority.” -Okay, ma'am. Anything else?”

-No, that will be all.” I hang up and look at the books on my desk. I need to find an appointment.

Vic, my number two and my head of operations, is very energetic.

-We’re going to get the go-ahead from the Sudanese authorities to put the shipments into the port in Sudan. But our contacts on the ground have doubts about the road trip to Darfur. They’re doing a risk assessment to see how viable it is.”

The logistics must be difficult; her normal cheerful nature is absent.

-We can always ship by air.”

-Maya, the costs of an air shipment…”

-I know. Let’s see what our friends at the NGO come back with.”

-Okay,” she says and sighs. “I’m also waiting for the all-clear alert from the State Department.”

I roll my eyes. Fucking bureaucracy.

-If we need to bribe anyone, or get Senator Blandino to intervene, let me know.

-So the next item is where to locate the new plant. You know the tax cuts in Detroit are huge. I sent you a rundown.

-I know, But, God, does it have to be in Detroit?

-I don't know what problem you have with the location. It meets our criteria.

-Okay, have Bill investigate potential brownfield sites. And let's do another field search to see if any other municipalities would offer more favorable terms.

- Bill's already sent Ruth there to meet with the Detroit Brownfield Redevelopment Authority, who couldn't be more helpful, but I'll ask Bill to do a final check.

My phone buzzes.

-Yes? - I snap at Andrea - she knows I hate being interrupted in a meeting.

-I've got Welch for you.

My watch says 11:30. That was fast.

-Put him on the line. - I signal Vic to stay.

-Mrs. Bishop?

-Welch. What's new?

-Miss DeLuca's last exam is tomorrow, May 20th. Damn. I don't have much time.

-Great. That's all I need to know. - I hang up. -Vic, wait a moment for me.

I grab the phone. Andrea answers immediately.

-Andrea, I need a blank note card to write a message on, in one hour, - I say and hang up.

-So, Vic, where were we?

At twelve thirty, Olivia shuffles into my office with lunch. She's a tall, slender girl with a pretty face. Sadly, she's always misdirected toward me with longing. She's carrying a tray with what I hope is something edible. After a busy morning, I'm starving. She trembles as she places it on my desk. Tuna salad. Okay. She hasn't screwed up for once. She also places three different white cards, all different sizes, with their corresponding envelopes on my desk.

-Great," I mutter. - Now, go." She slinks out. I take a bite of tuna to stave off my hunger, then grab my pen. I've chosen a date. A warning. I made the right choice, walking away from her. Not all people are romantic heroes. I'll take out the word "people." She'll understand:

Why didn't you tell me I was dangerous? Why didn't you warn me? Women know what they have to protect themselves from. Because they read novels that tell them how to do it...

I slip the card into the envelope and write Carina's address on it, which is etched in my memory from Welch's background check. I call Andrea.

-Yes, Ms. Bishop."

-Will you come here, please?”

-Yes, ma’am.” She appears at my door a moment later.

-Mrs. Bishop?”

-Grab these, box them up, and send them to Carina DeLuca, the girl who interviewed me last week. Here’s her address.”

-Right now, Mrs. Bishop.”

-They need to arrive no later than tomorrow.”

-Yes, ma’am. Will that be it?”

-No. Find me a replacement set.”

-For these books?”

-Yes. First editions. Get Olivia to do it.”

-What books are these?”

-Tess the d’Urbervilles.”

-Yes, ma’am.” She offers me a rare smile and walks out of my office. Why is she smiling? She never smiles. Dismissing the thought, I wonder if this will be the last time I see the books, and I have to admit, deep down, I hope not.

I slept well for the first time in five days. Maybe I'm feeling the closure I'd been hoping for, now that I've sent those books to Carina.

Liar.Fuck.
Okay. Okay. I'm waiting for her to call. She has my number.

Mrs. Jones looks up when I enter the kitchen.

-Good morning, Mrs. Bishop.”

-Good morning, Gail.”

-What would you like for breakfast?”

-An omelet. Thank you.” I sit at the kitchen table while she prepares my lunch and flip through the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times, then carefully read The Seattle Times. While I’m lost in the papers, my phone vibrates. It’s Jack. What the hell does my older brother want?

-Jack?”

-Sis, I need to get out of Seattle this weekend. This girl is all enthralled with my genitals, and I have to get away.”

-Your genitals?”

-Yes. the same as you have, right?” I ignore his sneer, and then a twisted thought occurs to me.

-How about hiking around Portland? We could go this afternoon. Stay there. Come back Sunday.”

-Sounds great. That toy, or do you want to drive?”

-It’s a helicopter, Jack, and I’ll take us there by car.” Come to the office at lunchtime and we'll go out.

-Thanks, Sis. I owe you." Jack hangs up. Jack has always had trouble restraining himself. As do the women he associates with: whoever this unfortunate girl is, she's just another in a long, long line of his casual encounters.

-Mrs. Bishop, what would you like me to make for you this weekend?

-Just make something light and leave it in the refrigerator. Maybe I'll come back on Sunday. Or maybe not.

She didn't give you a second glance, Bishop.

Having spent a large part of my professional life managing the expectations of others, I should be better at managing my own.

Jack sleeps most of the way to Portland. The poor son of a bitch must be toast. Working and fucking: that's Jack's raison d'être. He sprawls out in the passenger seat and snores. What company he'll be. It'll be after three by the time we get to Portland, so I call Andrea on speakerphone.

-Mrs. Bishop," she answers on the second ring.

-Can you have two bikes delivered to the Heathman?"

-What time, ma'am?"

-Three."

-Are the bikes for you and your brother?"

-Yes."

-Is your brother like 6'11?"

-Yes."

-I'll get on it right away."

-Excellent." I hang up, then call Taylor.

-Mrs. Bishop," he answers on the first ring. "What time will you be here?" "I'll check in around nine o'clock tonight." "Will you have the R8 with you?"

-It'll be a pleasure, ma'am." “Taylor’s a car guy, too.”

-Good.” I end the call and turn on the music. Let’s see if Jack can sleep to The Verve. As we cruise the fifth interstate, my excitement builds. Have the books been delivered yet? I’m tempted to call Andrea again, but I know I left her with a ton of work. Besides, I don’t want to give my staff an excuse to gossip. I don’t usually do this kind of shit. So why did you send them to her in the first place? Because I want to see her again. We pass the exit for Vancouver, and I wonder if she’s finished her exam.

-Hey, May, where are we?” Jack blurts out.

-Look, he’s waking up,” I murmur. - We’re almost there. We’re going mountain biking.”

-Shall we?”

-Yeah.”

-Cool. Remember Dad used to take us?”

-Yeah.” I shake my head at the memory. My father is a scholar, a true Renaissance man: academic, athletic, comfortable in the city, even more comfortable in the great outdoors. He'd welcomed three adopted children with open arms… and I'm the one who failed to live up to his expectations. But, before I even hit my teens, we had a bond. He'd been my hero. He used to love taking us camping and doing all the outdoor activities I now enjoy: sailing, canoeing, biking—we did it all. Puberty ruined all that for me. I figured if we arrived in the middle of the afternoon, we wouldn't have time for a field trip. Good thinking.

-So who are you running away from?

-May, I'm a love-'em-and-leave-'em type. You know that. No strings attached.

-I don't know, girls find out you run your own business and they start getting crazy ideas.

He gives me a sideways glance.

-You had the right idea by keeping your penis to yourself.

-I don’t think we’re arguing about my dick now, we’re arguing about your cock, and who’s had the sharp end of it inside them recently.”
Jack chuckles.

-I’ve lost count. Anyway, enough about me. How’s the stimulating world of trading and high finance?”

-You really want to know?” I glance at him.

-Nope,” he blurts out, and I laugh at his apathetic lack of eloquence.

-How’s business?” I ask.

-Are you checking your investments?”

-Always.”

-It’s my job.”

-Well, we broke ground on the Spokani Eden project last week, and it’s on schedule, but hey, it’s only been a week.” He shrugs. Beneath his somewhat casual exterior, my brother is an eco-warrior. His passion for sustainable living makes for some intense conversations at Sunday dinners with the family, and his latest project is an eco-friendly low-cost housing development north of Seattle. “I’m waiting to install that new graywater system I was telling you about. It would mean every household would reduce their water use and bills by 25 percent.”

-Impressive.”

-I hope so.”

We drive in silence toward downtown Portland, and just as we pull into the underground parking garage at the Heathman—the last place I saw her—Jack murmurs,

-You know we’re going to miss the Mariners game tonight.”

-Maybe you can have a night in front of the TV.” Give your dick a rest and watch baseball.

-Sounds like a plan.

Keeping up with Jack is a challenge. He tears up the road with the Jacke fucking recklessness he applies to most situations. Jack knows no fear, which is why I admire him. But, pedaling at this pace, I don't get a chance to appreciate our surroundings. I'm vaguely aware of the lush vegetation blinking past me, but my eyes are on the road, trying to avoid the potholes. By the end of the ride, we're both dirty and exhausted.

-That was the most fun I've had with my clothes on in a while," Jack says as we hand our bikes to the bellhop at the Heathman.

-Yeah," I murmur, and then I remember holding Carina when I saved her from the cyclist. Her warmth, her breasts pressed against me, her scent invading my senses.

I had my clothes on then…

-Yeah,” I murmur again. We check our phones in the elevator as we head toward the top floor. I have emails, a couple of texts from Elena asking what I’m doing this weekend, but no missed calls from Carina. It’s just before 7:00 PM; she should have gotten the books by now. The thought depresses me: I’ve come all the way to Portland on a wild goose chase, again.

-May, that girl’s called me five times and texted me four times. Doesn’t she realize how desperate she seems?” Jack whines.

-Maybe she’s pregnant.” Jack blanches, and I laugh.

-It’s not funny, big shot,” he grumbles.

After a quick shower, I join Jack in his room, and we settle down to watch the rest of the Mariners-San Diego Padres game. We order steak, salad, fries, and a couple of beers, and I sit back and enjoy the game in Jack's relaxed company. I've resigned myself to the fact that Carina isn't going to call. The Mariners are in the lead, and it looks like it might be a blowout. Disappointingly, it isn't, even though the Mariners are up 4-1. Go Mariners! Jack and I clink beer bottles. As the postgame analysis plays, my phone vibrates, and Ms. DeLuca's number flashes across the screen. It's her.

-Carina?" I don't hide my surprise or my pleasure. The background is loud, and it sounds like she's partying at a bar. Jack gives me the once-over, so I get up from the couch and move out of earshot.

-Why did you send me those books?" she's slurring her words, and a wave of apprehension spreads down my spine.

-Carina, are you okay? You have a weird voice."

-It's not me that's weird, it's you." - her tone is accusatory.

-Carina, have you been drinking?

Hell. Who is she with? The photographer? Where is her friend Gabriella?

-What do you care?” She sounds moody and belligerent, and I know she's drunk, but I also need to know she's okay.

-I'm curious… where are you?”

-At a bar.”

-What bar? Tell me.” Anxiety wells in my gut.

She's a young woman, drunk, somewhere in Portland. She's not sure.

-A bar in Portland.”

-How are you getting home?” I pinch the bridge of my nose in the vain hope that action will distract me from my combative temper.

-I'll figure it out.

What the hell? Is she driving?” I asks her again which bar she's at, and she ignores the question.

-Why did you send me those books, Maya?”

-Carina, where are you? Tell me right now.

How is she getting home?”

-You're so… dominant.” She lets out a small laugh. In any other situation, I'd find this charming. But right now… I want to show her how dominant I can be. She's driving me crazy.

-Carina, answer me, where the fuck are you?” She giggles again. Shit, she's laughing at me! Again!

-In Portland… pretty far from Seattle.”

-Where exactly?”

-Good night, Maya.”

The line dies.”

-Carina!

She hung up on me!” I stare at the phone in disbelief. No one's ever hung up on me before. What the fuck!

-What's the problem?” Jack asks from the couch.

-I got a ‘drunk caller.’” I look at him closely, and his mouth falls open in surprise.

-You?”

-Yep.” I hit the call-back button, trying to contain my temper, and my anxiety.

-Hi,” she says, all breathless and shy, and she's in quieter surroundings.

-I'll find you.” - My voice is arctic as I fight my anger and slam my phone down.

-I have to go get this girl and bring her home. You want to come over? - Jack looks at me like I've grown three heads.

-You? With a girl? I knew you were into girls, but I'll have to figure this out. -Jack grabs his sneakers and starts putting them on.

-I just have to make one call.—I wander around his room, deciding whether I should call Barney or Welch. Barney is the top engineer in my company's telecommunications division. He's a tech genius. But what I want isn't strictly legal. It's best to keep this away from my company. I speed dial Welch, and within seconds, his gruff voice answers.

-Mrs. Bishop?—

-I'd really like to know where Carina is right now.

-I see. - He pauses for a moment. - Leave it to me, Mrs. Bishop.

- I know this is against the law, but she could be in trouble. Thanks.”

-I’ll be back with you in a few.”

Jack is rubbing his hands together in gloating, a stupid grimace on his face when I walk back into the living room. Oh, for God’s sake.

-I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he says, showing off.

-I’m just going to get the car keys. I’ll see you at the garage in five,” I grumble, ignoring his smug face.

The bar is packed, full of students determined to have a good time. There's some indie trash playing through the sound system, and the dance floor is jammed with panting bodies. It makes me feel old. She's here somewhere. Jack has followed me through the front door.

-See her?” he shouts over the noise. Scanning the room, I spot Gabriella Aurora. She’s with a group of friends, all men, sitting in a booth. There’s no sign of Carina, but the table is piled high with shot glasses and cartons of beer. Well, let’s see if Miss Aurora is as loyal to her friend as Carina is to her. She looks at me in surprise when we reach her table.

-Gabriella,” I say by way of greeting, and she interrupts me before I can ask about Carina’s whereabouts.

-Maya, how surprising to see you here,” she shouts over the noise. The three guys at the table regard Jack and me with hostile suspicion.

-I was just in the neighborhood.”

-And who is this?” She smiles much more brightly at Jack, interrupting me again. What an infuriating woman.

-This is my brother Jack. Jack, Gabriella Aurora. Where’s Carina?” Her smile widens at Jack, and I’m surprised by the smile he gives her in return.

-I think she went out for some fresh air,” Aurora replies, but she doesn’t see me. She only has eyes for Mr. “love ’em and leave ’em.” Well, it’s her funeral.

-Outside? Which way?” I yell.

-Oh. That way.” She points toward some double doors at the end of the bar. Pushing through the crowd, I make my way to the door, leaving three disgruntled men and Aurora and Jack wrapped in smiles. On the other side of the double doors, there’s a line for the ladies’ room, and beyond that, a door leading outside. It’s the back of the bar. Ironically, she's heading toward the parking lot where Jack and I just stood. Walking outside, I find myself in a gathering space adjacent to the parking lot, a place flanked by raised flowerbeds, where a few people are smoking, drinking, and talking. Making out. I spot her. Hell! She's with the photographer, I think, though it's hard to tell in the crap light.
She's in her arms, but seems to be squirming away from her. She murmurs something to her, which I don't hear, and kisses her, along her jaw. "Arizona, no," she says, and then it's clear. She's trying to push her away. She doesn't want this. For a moment I want to rip her head off. With my hands fisted at my sides, I march toward them.

-I think the lady said no." - My voice is thick, cold, and sinister, relatively calm, as I fight to contain my anger. She releases Carina, and she narrows her eyes at me with a dazed, drunken expression.

-Bishop,” she says, her voice gruff, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to shatter the disappointment on her face. Carina gags, then doubles over and vomits on the floor. Oh, shit!

-Ugh, my God, Carina!” Arizona leaps out of the way in disgust. Asshole, idiot, stupid. Ignoring her, I grab her hair and hold it out of the way as she continues to vomit up everything she’s had tonight. It’s with some annoyance that I notice that, apparently, she hasn’t eaten. With my arm around her shoulders, I guide her away from the curious onlookers and toward the flower beds.

-If you're going to throw up again, do it here. I'll hold you.
It's darker here. She can throw up in peace. She throws up again and again, her hands on the bricks. It's miserable. Once her stomach is empty, she continues to retch, long, dry retches.

Girl, she's got it bad.
Finally, her body relaxes, and I think she's done. Releasing her, I give her my handkerchief, which I miraculously have in my jacket pocket.
Thank you, Mrs. Jones.

Wiping her mouth, she turns and leans back against the bricks, avoiding eye contact because she's embarrassed and ashamed. And yet, I'm pleased to see her. Gone is my fury at the photographer. I'm delighted to be here—standing in the parking lot of a student bar in Portland with Miss Carina DeLuca. She puts her head in her hands, flinches, then glances at me, still mortified. Turning toward the door, she glares over my shoulder. I assume it's at her "friend."

-Well... I'll see you inside," Arizona says, but I don't turn to meet her gaze, and, to my pleasure, she ignores her too, returning her eyes to mine.

-Sorry," she says finally, her fingers twisting the soft linen. Okay, let's go have some fun. -How are you sorry, Carina?" "Mostly about calling you. Being dizzy." “Ugh, the list goes on,” she murmurs.

-It’s happened to all of us, maybe not as dramatically as it has to you.”

Why is it so fun to tease this woman?”

-It’s all about knowing your boundaries, Carina. Well, I like pushing boundaries, but this is really a bit much. Do you often act like this?

Maybe she has a drinking problem. The thought is troubling, and I consider whether I should call my mom for a referral to a detox clinic. Carina frowns for a moment, as if she’s angry, that little “v” forming between her brows, and I suppress the urge to kiss her. But when she speaks, she sounds contrite.

-No,” she says. -I’ve never been drunk before, and right now I’m not in the mood for a repeat.” She looks up at me, her eyes unfocused, and she sways a little. She might faint, so without thinking, I scoop her up in my arms. She's surprisingly light. Too light. The thought irritates me. No wonder she's drunk.

-Come on, I'll take you home."

-I have to tell Gabriella," she says, her head resting on my shoulder.

-My brother can tell her"

-What?"

-My brother Jack is talking to Miss Aurora."

-How?"

-He was with me when you called."

-In Seattle?"

-No, I'm at the Heathman. And my impossible chase has paid off."

-How did you find me?"

-I tracked your cell phone, Carina."

I head toward the car. I want to take her home.

-Did you bring a jacket or a purse?"

-Um—yes, both. Maya, please, I have to tell Gabriella. She'll worry."

I stop and bite my tongue. Aurora wasn't worried about her being out here with the overly amorous photographer. Robbins. That's her name. What kind of friend is she? The bar lights illuminate her anxious face. As much as it pains me, I put her down and agree to take her inside. Holding hands, we walk back to the bar, stopping at Gabriella's table. One of the guys is still sitting there, looking upset and abandoned.

-Where's Gabriella?" Carina yells over the noise. "Dancing," the guy says. Carina picks up her jacket and bag and, reaching out, unexpectedly grabs my arm. I freeze. Shit. My heart rate kicks into overdrive as darkness surges, stretching and tightening its grip around my throat.

-She’s on the dance floor,” she yells, her words tickling my ear, distracting me from my fear. And suddenly the darkness disappears and the hammering in my heart stops.

-What? I roll my eyes to hide my confusion and lead her to the bar, order a large glass of water, and hand it to her.

-Drink.” Looking at me over the glass, she takes a hesitant sip.

-Drink it all,” I order. I’m hoping this is enough damage control to prevent one hell of a hangover in the morning. What could have happened to her if I hadn’t intervened? My mood sinks. And I think about what just happened to me. Her touch. My reaction. My mood plummets even further. Carina sways a little as she drinks, so I steady her with a hand on her shoulder. I like the connection, of me touching her. She's oil in my turbulent, deep, dark waters.

Hmm…I want her,stop Bishop. She finishes her drink, and retrieving the glass, I place it on the bar. Okay. She wants to talk to her so-called friend. I scan the crowded dance floor, uncomfortable at the thought of all those bodies pressing against me as we jostle to get through. Steeling myself, I grab her hand and steer her toward the dance floor. She's hesitant, but if she wants to talk to her friend, there's only one way; she's going to have to dance with me. Once Jack gets into the groove, there's no stopping him; she's going to have a smooth night. With one tug, she's in my arms. This I can handle. When I know she's going to touch me, it's okay. I can deal with it, especially since I'm wearing my jacket. We swing through the crowd to where Jack and Gabriella are making a spectacle of themselves. Still dancing, Jack leans into me in a semi-waddle when we're next to him and studies us with a look of disbelief.

-I'm taking Carina home. Tell Gabriella," I yell in his ear. He nods and pulls Aurora into his arms.

Right. Let me take the drunk Miss Bookworm home, but for some reason, she seems reluctant to leave. She's watching Aurora with concern. When we leave the dance floor, she looks back at Aurora, then back at me, swaying and a little dazed.

-Fuck!" By some miracle, I catch her as she passes out in the middle of the bar.

I'm tempted to throw her over my shoulder, but that would be too suspicious, so I pick her up again, cradling her against my chest, and carry her outside to the car.

-Christ," I mutter as I fish the keys out of my jeans and simultaneously hold her. Remarkably, I manage to get her into the seat across from me and buckle her in.

-Carina." I give her a little shake because she's disturbingly calm -Carina!" She's muttering something incoherent, and I know she's still conscious. I know I should take her home, but it's a long drive to Vancouver, and I don't know if she's going to get sick again. I'm not thrilled with the idea of my Audi reeking of vomit. The smell emanating from her clothes is already evident. I head toward the Heathman, telling myself I'm doing this for her own good.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Maya Bishop.

Notes:

Oh, sweet and broken Maya....
pst...Spoiler alert
We are getting closer to the contract and their first night...

Chapter 9 Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Carina's POV

Everything is quiet, the lights off. I'm so comfortable and warm in this bed. How nice… I open my eyes, and for a moment I'm calm and serene, enjoying my unfamiliar surroundings. I have no idea where I am. The headboard is shaped like a giant sun. It feels strangely familiar. The room is large and luxuriously decorated in shades of brown, gold, and beige. I've seen it before. Where? My fuzzy brain searches its recent memories. Damn! I'm at the Heathman Hotel… in a suite. I stayed in one like this with Gabriella. This one seems bigger. Oh, shit. I'm in Maya Bishop's suite. How did I get here? Bit by bit, fragmentary images from the night begin to torture me. The drunkenness—oh no, the drunkenness—the call—oh no, the call—the vomiting—oh no, the vomiting—Arizona, and then Maya. Oh no. I'm dying of embarrassment. I don't remember how I got here. I'm wearing my T-shirt, bra, and panties. No socks or jeans. Damn. I glance at the nightstand. There's a glass of orange juice and two pills. Ibuprofen. The control freak is all over me. I sit up in bed and take the pills. I honestly don't feel that bad, probably much better than I deserve. The orange juice is Delicious, It quenches my thirst and refreshes me. I hear a knock at the door. My heart skips a beat and I can't speak, but Maya opens the door and comes in anyway.
Wow, she's been working out. She's wearing tight black spandex pants and a black tank top with a sweat-soaked gray tank top, her hair all pulled back. Maya Bishop has been sweating. The idea is foreign to me. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I feel like a two-year-old. If I close my eyes, I'm not there.

-Good morning, Carina. How are you feeling?”

-Better than I deserve,” I murmur. I look up at her. She’s dropping a large bag from a clothing store onto a chair and grabbing both ends of the towel around her neck. Her impenetrable blue eyes stare into mine. I have no idea what she’s thinking, as always. She’s a good hider of what she’s thinking and what she’s feeling.

-How did I get here?” I ask her in a low, contrite voice. She sits down on the side of the bed. She’s so close to me I could touch her, smell her. Oh my… Sweat, perfume, and Maya. A heady cocktail, much better than a margarita, and I know this from experience now.

-After you passed out, I didn’t want to endanger the leather upholstery of my car by taking you home, so I brought you here,” she answers, evenly.

-Did you put me to bed?”

-Yes,” she replies impassively. “

-Did I throw up again?” I ask in a lower voice.

-No."

-Did you take my clothes off?" I whisper.

-Yes." she raises an eyebrow at me, and I blush even more.

-Didn't we..." I whisper, my mouth dry with embarrassment, but I can't finish the sentence. I look at my hands.

-Carina, you were almost in a coma. Necrophilia's not my thing. I like my women to be aware and receptive," she replies tersely.

-I'm so sorry."
Her lips curl into a mocking smile.

-It was a very fun night. I won't soon forget it.

Me too... Oh, she's laughing at me, the bitch... I didn't ask her to come looking for me. I don't understand why I have to end up feeling like the bad guy."

-You didn't have to track me down with some female James Bond gadget you're developing to sell to the highest bidder," I say sharply. She stares, surprised and, if I'm not mistaken, a little offended.

-First of all, cell phone tracking technology is available on the internet. Secondly, my company doesn't invest in or manufacture any surveillance devices. And thirdly, if I hadn't come looking for you, you would have probably woken up in the photographer's bed, and if I recall correctly, you weren't too keen on her courtship methods," she says scathingly.

"Her courtship methods!" I look up at Maya, who's staring at me, her eyes twinkling with offense. I try to bite my lip, but I can't stifle a laugh.

-What medieval chronicle have you escaped from? You look like a lady-errant." I can see her anger fading. Her eyes soften, her expression warms, and a smile appears to form on her lips.

-I don't think so, Carina. A dark lady, perhaps," she says with a mocking smile, nodding.

-Did you have dinner yesterday?" Her tone is accusatory. I shake my head. What great sin have I committed now? Her jaw tenses, but her face remains impassive.

-You need to eat. That's why you felt so bad. Seriously, it's the first rule when you're drinking. - She runs her hand through her hair, but now because she's very nervous.

-Are you going to keep scolding me?"

-Am I scolding you

-I think so.”

-You’re lucky If I only scolds you.”

-What do you mean?”

-Well, if you were mine, after that scene you pulled yesterday, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week. You skipped dinner, you got drunk, and you put yourself in danger.” She closes her eyes. For a moment, terror flashes across her face, and she shudders. When she opens her eyes, she’s staring at me.

-I don’t even want to think about what could have happened to you.”

I frown at her. What’s wrong with her? What does it matter to her? If I were hers… Well, I’m not. Although maybe I wish I were. The thought pierces my anger at her arrogant words. I blush at my wayward subconscious, which jumps for joy in a red Hawaiian skirt at the thought of possibly being hers.

-Nothing would have happened to me. I was with Gabriella.”

-And the photographer?” she asks sharply.

Mmm… Arizona. I'm going to have to confront her eventually.

-Arizona crossed a line.” I shrug.

-Well, next time she steps out of line, maybe someone should teach her some manners.”

-You're such a disciplinarian,” I mutter.

-Oh, Carina, you have no idea.” Her eyes close a little and she laughs wickedly. It disarms me. Suddenly I'm confused and angry, and the next moment I'm staring into her beautiful smile. Wow… I'm entranced because she doesn't usually smile. I almost forget what she's saying to me.

-I'm going to take a shower. If you don't want to take a shower first…” she tilts her head, still smiling. My heart is racing, and my spinal cord refuses to make the necessary connections for me to breathe. Her smile widens. She moves closer to me, leans in, and runs her thumb over my cheek and lower lip.

-Breathe, Carina,” she whispers. And then she sits up and pulls away.

-Breakfast will be here in fifteen minutes. You must be starving.” she goes into the bathroom and closes the door.

I let out the breath I’ve been holding. Why is she so mind-blowingly attractive? I would hop in the shower with her right now. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. My hormones are surging. My skin burns where her finger ran, on my cheek and lip. An uncomfortable, aching sensation makes me squirm. I don’t understand this reaction.
Mmm… Desire. It is desire. This is what desire feels like. I lie back against the soft feather pillows. If you were mine… Oh, what would I be willing to do to be hers? She’s the only person who’s ever made me feel the blood coursing through my veins. But she also gets on my nerves. She’s difficult and complex and unclear. One moment she's rejecting me, the next she's sending me fourteen thousand dollars' worth of books, and then she's stalking me like a stalker. And yet, I spent the night in her hotel suite and I feel safe. Protected. She cares enough about me to come rescue me from something she mistakenly believed was dangerous. She's not a dark lady at all. She's a white lady in shining, glittering armor. A romantic heroine. A female version of Sir Gawain or Sir Lancelot. I get out of her bed and frantically search for my jeans.

The bathroom door opens and she appears, wet and glistening from the shower, a towel wrapped around her breasts, covering her breasts, and another towel in her hair, and there I am… in my underwear, gaping at her and feeling very uncomfortable. She's surprised to see me up.

-If you're looking for your jeans, I sent them to the cleaners," she says, her gaze impenetrable. - They were splattered with vomit.

-Oh. I’m blushing. Why the hell does she always have to catch me off guard?

-I sent Taylor to buy some more, and some sneakers. They’re in that bag. Clean clothes. An unexpected bonus.”

-Well… I’m going to take a shower,” I mumble.

- Thanks.” What else can I say? I grab my bag and run into the bathroom to get away from Maya's disturbing proximity. The Venus de Milo has no business being next to her. The bathroom is steamy. I strip off my clothes and quickly step into the shower, eager to feel the clean, clean water spray over my body. I lift my face to the longed-for torrent.

I want Maya Bishop. I want her desperately. It's simple. For the first time in my life, I want to go to bed with someone, but not just anyone, but a fucking mysterious woman. I want to feel her hands and mouth on my body, I want to feel her inside me. She's said she likes her women to be conscious. So she probably sleeps with women. But she hasn't tried to kiss me, like Nattie and Arizona. I don't understand her. Does she want me? She didn't want to kiss me last week.
Do I find her repulsive? But I'm here, and she brought me clothes. I don't understand what game she's playing at. What does she think? You slept in her bed all night and she didn't touch you, Carina. Draw your own conclusions. My subconscious rears its ugly, insidious face. I ignore it. The hot water relaxes me. Mmm… I could stay under the tap, in this bathroom, forever. I grab the liquid soap, which smells like Maya. It's an exquisite scent. I scrub my entire body, imagining it's her doing it, her rubbing this wonderful-smelling soap all over my body, my breasts, my stomach, and between my thighs with her long-fingered hands and then she is inside me with her cock, yes, I know what it means to be intersex... how long her c... Oh my God. My heart races. It's a very… very pleasurable sensation. There's a knock on the door and I jump.

-Breakfast's here."

-Okay… Okay," I stammer, cruelly tearing myself from my erotic reverie. I get out of the shower and grab two towels. With one, I wrap my hair Carmen Miranda-style, and with the other, I quickly dry it, ignoring the pleasant sensation of the towel rubbing against my hypersensitive skin. I open the bag. Taylor has bought me not only jeans and Converse, but also a sky-blue shirt, socks, and underwear.

Oh my. Clean bra and panties… Although describing them in such a mundane and utilitarian way doesn't do them justice. It's luxury European lingerie, exquisitely designed. Sky-blue lace and silk. Wow.

I'm impressed and a little intimidated. And it's also exactly my size. Of course. I blush thinking about the buzz cut in a lingerie store buying me these clothes. I wonder what else he does during his work hours. I dress quickly. The rest of my clothes fit perfectly too. I towel dry my hair and desperately try to control it, but, as always, it refuses to cooperate. My only option is to put it in a ponytail, but I don't have an elastic band. I must have one in my purse, but who knows where it is. I take a deep breath.
It's time to confront Miss. Troublemaker. I'm relieved to find the room empty. I quickly search for my purse, but it's nowhere to be seen. I take another deep breath and head for the suite's living room.It's huge. There's a plush seating area filled with sofas and plush cushions, a sophisticated coffee table stacked with large picture books, a study area with the latest iMac, and a giant plasma TV on the wall. Maya sits at the dining table across the room, reading a newspaper. The room is about the size of a tennis court. I don't exactly play tennis, but I've been there to watch Gabriella play a few times.

-Gabriella! Shit, Gabriella," I rasp.

Maya looks up at me.

-She knows you’re here and still alive. I texted Jack,” she says with a sarcastic quality. Oh no. I remember her fiery dance yesterday, using all her signature moves to seduce Maya Bishop’s brother, no less. What does she think I’m here for? I’ve never spent a night away from home. She’s still with Jack. She’s only done that twice, and both times I’ve had to put up with the hideous pink pajamas for a week after they broke up. She’s going to think I hooked up with Maya, too.

Maya looks at me impatiently. She's wearing a red shirt with the collar and cuffs unbuttoned, revealing her perfect breasts.

-Sit down," she orders, gesturing to the table. I cross the room and sit opposite her, as instructed. The table is laden with food.

-I didn't know what you like, so I ordered a bit of everything." She gives me a half-smile apologetically.

-You're such a spendthrift," I murmur, overwhelmed by the amount of food on offer, even though I'm hungry.

-I am," she says guiltily. I opt for pancakes, maple syrup, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Maya tries to hide a smile as she returns her gaze to her omelet. The food is delicious.

-Tea?" she asks.

-Yes, please." She hands me a small teapot filled with hot water, and on the saucer is a Twinings English Breakfast bag.

Oh, she remembers the tea I like.

-Your hair is very wet,” she scolds me.

-I couldn’t find the hairdryer,” I whisper uncomfortably. I didn’t look for it.

Maya presses her lips together, but says nothing.

-Thanks for the clothes.”

-It’s a pleasure, Carina. This color looks great on you, blue like my eyes.

I blush and stare at my fingers.

-You know, you should learn to accept compliments,” she says seriously.

-I should give you some money for the clothes.”

She looks at me as if I’m insulting her. I keep talking.

-You’ve already given me the books, which I can’t accept, of course. But the clothes… Please, let me pay for them,” I say, trying to convince her with a smile.

-Carina, I can afford it, believe me.”

-It’s not about that. Why would you buy me these clothes?”

-Because I can.” Her eyes flash with malice.

-Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” I reply calmly.

She raises an eyebrow at me, her eyes twinkling, and suddenly I get the feeling we’re talking about something else, but I don’t know what. And that reminds me…

-Why did you send me the books, Maya?” I ask her softly.

She puts down her cutlery and stares at me, unfathomable emotion burning in her eyes. Damn… My mouth goes dry.

-Well, when you almost got hit by the cyclist… and I was holding you in my arms and you were looking at me saying, ‘Kiss me, kiss me, Maya’…” She pauses for a moment and shrugs. - Well, I thought I owed you an apology and a warning.” She runs a hand through her hair.

-Carina, I’m not a hearts-and-flowers kind of girl. I'm not interested in love stories. My tastes are very peculiar. You should stay away from me. - She closes her eyes, as if refusing to accept it.

-But, There is something in you that doesn't let me leave you, it's something that I can't explain...it has never happened to me before.. I guess you've guessed as much.

Suddenly I'm not hungry anymore. She can't leave me!'

-Then don't leave,' I whisper.

Her mouth drops open, her eyes wide.

-You don't know what you're talking about.

-Then explain it to me.

We stare at each other. Neither of us touches our food.

-What are your plans for the next few days?' she asks softly.

-I'm working today, starting at noon. What time is it?” I exclaim, frightened.

-Just after ten. You have plenty of time. And tomorrow?” She’s placed her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her long, slender fingers.

-Gabriella and I are going to start packing. We’re moving to Seattle next weekend, and I’m working at Clayton’s all week.”

-Do you already have a house in Seattle?”

-Yes.”

-Where?”

-I don’t remember the address. In the Pike Market district.”

-It’s not far from my house,” she says, smiling.

-And what will you be working on in Seattle?”
Where is she going with all these questions? Saintly Inquisitor Maya Bishop is almost as annoying as Saintly Inquisitor Gabriella Aurora.

-I’ve sent out applications to several internships.

-And my company, like I told you?”

I blush… Of course not.”

-Well… no.”

-What’s wrong with my company?”

-Your company or your ‘company’?” I ask with a wicked laugh.

-Are you laughing at me, Ms. DeLuca?”

She tilts her head, and I think she looks amused, but it’s hard to tell. I blush and look down at my breakfast. I can’t meet her eyes when she speaks in that tone.

-I’d like to bite that lip,” she whispers disturbingly.

I’m not aware that I’m biting my bottom lip. After a slight jerk, my mouth falls open. It’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me. My heart is racing, and I think I’m panting. Oh God, I’m trembling, completely lost, and she hasn’t even touched me. I shift in my chair and search her impenetrable gaze.

-Why aren’t you?”

-Because I’m not touching you, Carina—not until I have your written consent,” she says, flashing a faint smile.

-What?, What do you mean?”

-Exactly what I said.” She sighs and shakes her head, amused but also impatient. - I have to show you, Carina. What time do you get off work this afternoon?”

-Eight.”

-Well, we could go to my house in Seattle for dinner tonight or next Saturday, and I’d explain. Your choice.”

-Why can’t you just tell me now?”

-Because I’m enjoying my breakfast and your company. When you find out, you probably won’t want to see me again.

What does all this mean? Is she part of some dangerous Mafia-like criminal gang? It would explain why she’s so rich. Is she deeply religious? Is she frigid? Surely not… She could show me right now. I make myself uncomfortable thinking about all the possibilities. This isn't getting me anywhere. I'd like to solve the mystery of Maya Bishop as soon as possible. If that means her secret is so serious that I'm never going to want to hear from her again, then, honestly, it'll be a huge relief. Don't kid yourself! my subconscious screams. It'll have to be something really bad for you to run away.

-Tonight."

-Tonight." She raises an eyebrow.

-Like Eve, you want to taste the fruit of the tree of knowledge as soon as possible."

She lets out a wicked laugh.

-Are you laughing at me, Ms. Bishop?" I ask her softly.

She narrows her eyes at me and pulls out her BlackBerry.

-Taylor, I'm going to need the Charlie Tango.

Charlie Tango! Who's that?"

-From Portland at, like, 8:30… No, staying at the Escala… All night.

All night!"

-Yes. See you tomorrow morning. I'll be flying from Portland to Seattle.

She is going to fly?

-Pilot available from 10:30.

She leaves her phone on the table. No please, no thank you.

-Do people always do what you tell them?”

-They usually do it if they don’t want to lose their job,” she replies flatly.

-What if they don’t work for you?”

-Well, I can be very convincing, Carina. You should finish your breakfast. Then I’ll drive you home. I’ll pick you up at Clayton’s at eight, when you get off. We’ll fly to Seattle.”

I blink.

-Fly?”

-Yes. I have a helicopter.”

I gape at her. Second date with the mysterious Maya Bishop. From coffee to a helicopter ride. Wow.

-We’re going to Seattle by helicopter?”

-Yes.”

-Why?”

She smiles wickedly.

-Because I can. Finish your breakfast.

How am I going to eat now? I’m going to Seattle by helicopter with Maya Bishop. And she wants to bite my lip… I shudder at the thought.

-Eat,” she says sharply. - Carina, I can't stand throwing away food... Eat.

-I can't eat all of this," I say, looking at what's left on the table.

-Eat what's on your plate. If you'd eaten properly yesterday, you wouldn't be here, and I wouldn't have to show my hand so soon." She presses her lips together. She looks angry. I frown, looking down at the food on my plate, now cold. I'm too nervous to eat, Maya. "Don't you understand?" my subconscious explains. But I'm too much of a coward to say it out loud, especially when she seems so sullen. Mmm... like a little kid. I find the idea amusing.

-What's so funny?" she asks. Since I don't dare say it, I don't look up from my plate. As I eat the last piece of pancake, I look up. She studies me with scrutinizing eyes.

-Good girl," she says. - I'll take you home as soon as your hair is dry. I don't want you to get sick. Her words hold something of an implicit promise. What does she mean? I get up from the table. For a second I wonder if I should ask her permission, but I dismiss the idea. It seems like it would set a dangerous precedent. I head toward the bedroom, but a thought stops me.

-Where did you sleep?" I turn to look at her. She's still sitting at the dining room table. I don't see any blankets or sheets around the room. Maybe she's put them away by now.

-On my bed," she answers, her expression impassive again.

-Oh."

-Yeah, that was quite a first for me too," she says, smiling.

-Sleeping with a woman… without sex."

Yes, I say 'sex.' And I blush, of course.

-No," she answers, shaking her head and frowning, as if she's just remembered something unpleasant.

-Just sleeping with a woman." She picks up the newspaper and continues reading.

What the hell does that mean? Has she never slept with a woman? Is she a virgin? I doubt it, really. I stare at her, still unable to believe it. She's the most enigmatic person I've ever met. It dawns on me that I've slept with Maya Bishop, and I'd bang my head against a wall. How much would I have given to be conscious and watch her sleep? See her vulnerable. I can't imagine it. Well, I'm supposed to find out everything tonight.

Back in the bedroom, I search a dresser and find the hairdryer. I dry my hair as best I can, styling it with my fingers. When I'm done, I go to the bathroom. I want to brush my teeth. I see Maya's toothbrush. It would be like putting her in my mouth. Hmm… I glance quickly toward the door, feeling guilty, and touch the bristles of the toothbrush. They're damp. She must have used it already. I quickly grab it, squirt toothpaste, and brush my teeth in no time. I feel like a bad girl. It's so exciting. I gather up yesterday's shirt, bra, and panties, throw them in the bag Taylor brought me, and go back to the living room to get my purse and jacket.
To my delight, I have a hair tie in my bag. Maya watches me, her expression impassive, as I put my hair in a ponytail. I can feel her eyes following me as I sit and wait for her to finish. She's talking to someone on her BlackBerry.

-Do you want two? How much will they cost? Okay, so what security measures do we have there? Are they going through Suez? Is Ben Sudan safe? And when do they get to Darfur? Okay, go ahead. Keep me updated on how things go." She hangs up.

-Are you ready?" she asks. I nod. I wonder what the conversation was about. She puts on a black leather jacket, and I notice she's wearing tight white pants and her essential heels that match the color of the jacket. Holy crap! She grabs her car keys and heads for the door.

-You first, Miss DeLuca," she murmurs, opening the door for me. She looks elegant, yet casual. I stare at her for a second too long. And to think that I slept with her last night, and that, despite the tequila and the vomit, she's still here. Not only that, but she also wants to take me to Seattle.
Why me? I don't understand. I walk through the door remembering her words: "There's something about you..." Well, the feelings are mutual, Miss Bishop, and I want to find out what your secret is. We walk down the hall in silence to the elevator. While we wait, I glance up at her for a moment, as she's looking at me out of the corner of her eye. I smile and she purses her lips. The elevator arrives and we step inside. We're alone. Suddenly, for some inexplicable reason, probably because we're so close in such a small space, the atmosphere between us changes and becomes charged with electric, exciting anticipation. My breathing quickens and my heart races. She turns her face slightly toward me, her eyes completely unreadable. I bite my lip.

-Fuck paperwork," she bellows.
She lunges at me and pushes me against the elevator wall. Before I know it, she's seized both of my wrists with one hand, lifted them above my head, and pinned me against the wall with her hips.

Oh my God.

With her other hand, she grabs my hair, pulls my face down, and presses her full lips to mine. It almost hurts. I moan, which gives her the opportunity to slide her tongue inside me and run it expertly over my mouth. I've never been kissed like that. My tongue tentatively caresses hers, joining hers in a slow, erotic dance of brushes and sensations, of jerks and thrusts. She reaches up and grabs my jaw to keep my face in place. I'm helpless, my hands clasped above my head, my face held, and her hips pinning me down. I feel her breasts against mine.

Oh God… She wants me. Maya Bishop, the goddess, wants me, and I want her, here… now, in the elevator.

-You're… so… sweet,” she murmurs breathily. The elevator stops, the door opens, and in the blink of an eye, she's released me and stepping away from me, wiping away her smudged lipstick.

Three men in suits glance up at us and enter, smiling at each other. My heart is racing. I feel like I've just run up a steep hill. I want to bend over and hold my knees, but that would be too obvious. I look at her. She looks absolutely calm, as if she's been working on the Seattle Times crossword puzzle. How unfair. Does my presence not bother her in the slightest? She glances at me and lets out a soft sigh. Okay, it bothers her, and the little goddess in me sways her hips and Jackbas in victory. The businessmen get off on the first floor. We only have one more.

-You brushed your teeth," she says, staring at me.

-I used your toothbrush."

Her lips curl into a half smile.

-Oh, Carina DeLuca, what am I going to do with you?"
The doors open on the ground floor; she takes my hand and pulls me forward with great force.

-What is it with elevators?" she mutters to herself, striding across the lobby. I struggle to keep up because all my thoughts have spilled onto the floor and walls of elevator number 3 at the Heathman Hotel.

Notes:

well, well, well.
I will not call Maya Mrs. Bishop but Miss Bishop, it is an adaptation, remember there are things that I have changed but they are minimal, I wanted to clarify that.

Chapter 10 Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Maya's POV

She sleeps in my arms as we ride the elevator from the parking garage. I need to get her out of her jeans and shoes. The stale stench of vomit pervades the space. I really want to give her a bath, but that would be overstepping the bounds of decorum. Isn't this it? In my room, I drop her bag on the couch, then carry her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. She mumbles again, but doesn't wake. Quickly, I remove her shoes and socks and put them in the plastic laundry bag provided by the hotel. Then, I unbutton her jeans and take them off, checking her pockets before stuffing the jeans into the laundry bag. She falls back onto the bed, sprawled like a starfish, beautiful legs, and for a moment I imagine those legs wrapped around my waist while her wrists are tied to my St. Andrew's cross. There's a faded scrape on her knee, and I wonder if it's from the fall she took in my office. I feel her up, and she opens her eyes.

-Hi, Carina," I whisper, slowly removing her jacket without any cooperation from her.

-Bishop. Lips," she murmurs.

-Yes, baby." I ease her onto the bed. She closes her eyes again and rolls onto her side, but this time she curls into a ball, looking small and vulnerable. I pull the covers over her and plant a kiss in her hair. Now that her dirty clothes are gone, a trace of her scent has reappeared. Apples, autumn, freshness, Delicious and sweet…Carina. Her lips are parted, lashes fanning over her cheeks, and her skin looks flawless. One more touch is all I allow myself as I caress her cheek with the back of my index finger.

I don’t understand this feeling in my chest.

-Sleep well,” I murmur, and then head into the living room to complete the laundry list.

When it’s done, I place the offending bag outside my room so the contents can be collected and washed. Before checking my email, I send Welch a text, asking if Arizona Robbins has a criminal record. I’m curious. I want to know if she picks up drunk girls. Then I address the issue of clothes for Miss DeLuca: I send a quick email to Taylor.

From: Maya Bishop
Subject: Miss Carina DeLuca
Date: May 20, 2022 11:46 PM
To: JB Taylor
Good Morning, Could you please find the following items for Miss DeLuca and send them to my room by 10:00 AM?
-Jeans: Blue denim. Size 4
-Top: Blue. Nice. Size 4
-Converse: Black. Size 8
-Socks: Size 8
-Lingerie: Underwear, size small. Estimated bra size 34 C

Thank you.

Maya Bishop President of Bishop and Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Once it's disappeared from my outbox, I send Jack a text.

Carina's with me. If you're still with Gabriella, tell her.

He texts me back.

I will. I hope you get laid. You really need it. ;)

His response makes me snort. I hope so too, Jack. Me too. I open my work email and start reading.

Saturday, May 21, 2022

Almost two hours later, I get to bed. It's just after 1:45 in the morning. She's fast asleep and hasn't moved from where I left her. I undress, put on my pajama pants and a bra, and climb in beside her. She's comatose; it's unlikely she's going to squirm and touch me. I hesitate for a moment as the darkness increases inside me, but it doesn't surface, and I know it's because I'm watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest and I'm breathing in sync with it. I breathe in. I breathe out. I breathe in. I breathe out. I breathe in. I breathe out.

For seconds, minutes, hours—I don't know—I watch her. And while she sleeps, I contemplate every beautiful inch of her beautiful face. Her dark eyelashes fluttering in her sleep, her lips parted so I even glimpse her white teeth. She murmurs something unintelligible, and her tongue darts out and licks her lips. It's exciting, very exciting. I finally fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
It's silent when I open my eyes, and I'm momentarily disoriented. Oh, yes. I'm at the Heathman. The clock next to my bed reads 7:43 a.m. When was the last time I slept in this late? Carina. I slowly turn my head, and she's asleep, facing me. Her beautiful face calm in repose. I've never slept with a woman. I've fucked plenty, but waking up next to a young, attractive woman is a new and stimulating experience. My cock agrees.

This isn't going to work.

Reluctantly, I get out of bed and change into my running clothes. I need to burn off this... excess energy. As I change into my workout clothes, I can't remember the last time I slept so well. In the living room, I turn on my laptop, check my email, and reply to two from Vic and one from Andrea. It takes me a little longer than usual because I'm distracted by the knowledge that Carina is asleep in the next room. I wonder how she'll feel when she wakes up.

With a hangover. Oh.

In the minibar, I find a bottle of orange juice and empty the contents into a glass. She's still asleep when I walk in, her hair a riot of mahogany scattered across her pillow, and the covers have slipped below her waist. Her T-shirt has ridden up, exposing her stomach and navel. The sight stirs my body once more. Stop standing here ogling the girl, for God's sake, Bishop.

I have to get out of here before I do something I'll regret. Placing the glass on the nightstand, I walk into the bathroom, find two Advil in my travel kit, and set them next to the glass of orange juice. With one last lingering glance at Carina DeLuca, the first woman I've ever slept with, I head out for a run. When I return from my workout, there's a bag in the living room of a store I don't recognize. I peek inside and see it contains clothes for Carina. From what I can see, Taylor did well—and all before nine in the morning. The man is a stunner. Her purse is on the couch where I dropped it last night, and the bedroom door is closed, so I'm guessing she hasn't left and is still asleep. That's a relief. Poring over the room service menu, I decide to order food. She's going to be hungry when she wakes up, but I have no idea what she's going to eat, so in a rare moment of indulgence, I order a little bit of everything from the breakfast menu. I'm informed it will take half an hour. Time to wake up the delightful Miss DeLuca; she's slept long enough. Grabbing my workout towel and shopping bag, I knock on the door and walk in. To my delight, she's sitting up in bed. The pills are gone, and so is the juice.

Good girl.

She pales as I enter the room.

Keep it casual, Bishop. You don't want to be accused of kidnapping.

She closes her eyes, and I guess it's because she's embarrassed.

-Good morning, Carina. How are you feeling?”

-Better than I deserve,” she murmurs, as I put the bag on the chair.

When she looks back at me, her eyes are incredibly big and Brown, oh those beautiful eyes, and even though her hair is a tangled mess… she looks stunning.

-How did I get here?” she asks, as if she’s afraid of the answer.

Calm her down, Bishop.

I sit on the edge of the bed and stick to the facts.

-After you passed out, I didn’t want to endanger the leather upholstery of my car by driving you home, so I brought you here.”

-You put me to bed?”

-Yes.”

-Did I throw up again?”

-No.”

-Thank God. You took my clothes off?”

-Yes.”

-Who else would have?”

She blushes, and at last she has some color in her cheeks. Perfect teeth bite her lip. I stifle a moan.

-Did we—?” she whispers, looking down at her hands.

Christ, what kind of animal do you think I am?

-Carina, you were almost in a coma. Necrophilia isn't my thing." My tone is dry. - I like my women to be conscious and receptive."

She relaxes with relief, which makes me wonder if this has happened to her before—that she's passed out and woken up in a stranger's bed and discovered she's been fucked without her consent. Maybe that's the photographer's modus operandi. The thought is unsettling. But I remember her confession last night… that she's never been drunk before. Thank God she hasn't made a habit of this.

-I'm so sorry," she says, her voice full of shame.

Damn. Maybe I should take it easy on her.

-It was a very fun night. It won't be long before I forget it." I hope that sounds conciliatory, but his brow furrows.

-You didn't have to track me down with some female James Bond gadget you're developing to sell to the highest bidder."

Gosh! Now she's upset. Why?

-First, cell phone tracking technology is available online.

Well, the Invisible Internet…

-Second, my company doesn't invest in or manufacture any surveillance devices. My temper is flaring, but I have to finish. - And third, if I hadn't come looking for you, you probably would have woken up in the photographer's bed, and if I recall correctly, you weren't too keen on her wooing methods. She blinks a couple of times, then starts laughing.

She's laughing at me again.

-What medieval chronicle have you escaped from? You look like a lady-errant.
She's seductive. She's calling me... again, and her irreverence is refreshing, very refreshing. However, I'm under no illusion that I'm a lady in shining armor.

Girl, you've got the wrong idea.

And while it may not be in my favor, I'm obliged to warn her that there's nothing polite about me.
-I don't think so, Carina. A dark lady, perhaps.

If only she knew...and why are we talking about me?

Change of subject

-Did you have dinner last night?

She shakes her head.

I knew it!

-You have to eat. That’s why you got so sick. Honestly, it’s the first rule of drinking.”

-Are you going to keep nagging me?”

-Is that what I’m doing?”

-I think so.”

-You’re lucky I’m just nagging you.”

-What do you mean?”

-Well, if you were mine, after that scene you pulled yesterday, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week. You skipped dinner, got drunk, and put yourself in danger.”

The fear in my gut shocks me; such irresponsible, risky behavior.

-I don’t want to think about what could have happened to you.”

She frowns - It would have been okay. I was with Gabriella.”

I needed a little help!

-And the photographer?” I counter.

-Arizona crossed a line,” she says, waving off my concern and tossing her tangled hair over her shoulder.

-Well, next time she gets out of line, maybe someone should teach her some manners.”

-You’re such a disciplinarian,” she says through gritted teeth.

-Oh, Carina, you have no idea.”

An image of her chained to my bench, a peeled ginger root inserted into her ass so she can't clench her buttocks, comes to mind, followed by the judicious use of my cock inside her. Yes... That would teach her not to be so irresponsible. The thought is enormously appealing. She's staring at me with wide, dazed eyes, and it makes me uncomfortable.
Can she read my mind? Or is she just looking at a pretty face?

-I'm going to take a shower. Would you rather do that first?" I say, but she's still gaping.

Even with her mouth open, she's quite beautiful. It's hard to resist her, and I give myself permission to touch her, tracing the line of her cheek with my thumb. Her breath catches in her throat as I caress her soft lower lip.

-Breathe, Carina," I murmur, before standing up and informing her that breakfast will be here in fifteen minutes. She doesn't say anything, her intelligent mouth silent for once.

In the bathroom, I take a deep breath, undress, and jump in the shower. I'm half-tempted to masturbate, but the familiar fear of discovery and revelation from an earlier time in my life stops me.
As the water cascades over my head, I think back to my last interaction with the defiant Miss DeLuca. She's still here, in my bed, so she can't find me totally repulsive. I could tell by the way her breath caught in her throat, and how her gaze followed me around the room.

Yes. There is hope. But she would be a good submissive?

It's obvious she knows nothing about that lifestyle. She couldn't even say "fuck" or "sex" or whatever it is that bookish college students use as a euphemism for fucking these days. She's innocent enough. She's probably been subjected to a couple of awkward encounters with guys or girls like the photographer. The thought of her awkwardness with anyone else bothers me.

I could just ask her if she's interested.
No. I have to show her what I'd be having if she agreed to a relationship with me. We'll see how it goes, for better or worse, over breakfast.

Rinsing off the soap, I stand under the hot water and stay focused for round two with Carina DeLuca. I turn off the water and, stepping out of the shower, grab a towel. A quick check in the steam-stained mirror and “You look great Maya” Breakfast will be here shortly, and I'm hungry. I quickly brush my teeth.

When I open the bathroom door, she's out of bed and reaching for her jeans. She looks up like the epitome of a scared fawn, all long legs and big eyes.

-If you're looking for your jeans, I sent them to the cleaners."

She really does have nice legs. She shouldn't hide them with pants. Her eyes narrow, and I think she's going to argue with me, so I tell her why.

-They were splattered with vomit."

-Oh," she says.

Yes. "Oh" Now, what do you have to say to that, Miss DeLuca?

-I sent Taylor to get some more, and some sneakers. They're in that bag."

I nod at the shopping bag. She raises her eyebrows... in surprise, I think.

-Well... I'm going to take a shower," she murmurs, and then at the last moment, adds - Thanks." Grabbing the bag, she dodges me, shoots toward the bathroom, and closes the door.

Hmm... She couldn't get into the bathroom fast enough. Away from me.
Maybe I'm being too optimistic.

Disheartened, I dry myself briskly and get dressed. In the living room, I check my email, but there's nothing urgent. I'm interrupted by a knock at the door. Two young women have arrived with room service.

-Where would you like breakfast, ma'am?"

-Put it on the dining room table."

Walking back to the room, I catch their furtive glances, but I ignore them and suppress the guilt I feel about how much food I've ordered. We'll never eat it all.

-Breakfast is here," I say and knock on the bathroom door.

-O-okay." Carina's voice sounds a little muffled. Back in the living room, breakfast is on the table. One of the women, who has dark, very dark eyes, hands me the check to sign, and from my wallet I

take a couple of twenty-dollar bills for them.

-Thank you, ladies.”

-Just call room service when you want us to clear the table, ma’am,” Miss Dark Eyes says with a flirtatious look, as if I’m offering more. My cool smile warns her to stop. Sitting at the table with the newspaper, I pour myself a coffee and start on my omelet. My phone buzzes… a text from Jack.

She wants to know if Carina is still alive.

I laugh, somewhat appeased that Carina's so-called friend is thinking about her. It's obvious Jack hasn't given his cock a break after all his protests yesterday. I answer back.

Alive and kicking ;)

Carina appears a few moments later: hair wet, wearing the pretty blue blouse that matches with my eyes. Taylor has done well; she looks beautiful. Scanning the room, she sees her purse.

-Shit, Gabriella!” she exclaims.

-She knows you’re here and still alive. I texted Jack.”

She gives me an uncertain smile as she walks over to the table.

-Sit down,” I say, gesturing to the spot that’s been set for her.

She frowns at the amount of food on the table, which only accentuates my guilt.

-I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered a little bit of everything from the breakfast menu,” I murmur apologetically.

-That’s very wasteful of you,” she says.

-Yes, it is.” My guilt blooms. But as she settles on pancakes, maple syrup, scrambled eggs, and bacon, I forgive myself. It’s good to watch her eat.

-Tea?”

-Yes, please,” she says between bites.

She’s obviously hungry. I pass her the small kettle of water. She gives me a sweet smile when she sees the Twinings English Breakfast tea. I have to catch my breath at her expression. And it makes me uncomfortable. It gives me hope.

-Your hair is very wet,” I observe.

-I couldn’t find the hairdryer,” she says, embarrassed.

She's going to get sick.

-Thanks for the clothes," she adds.

-It's a pleasure, Carina. This color looks great on you, blue like my eyes"

She looks down at her fingers.

-You know, you really should learn how to take a compliment."

Maybe she doesn't get many... but why? She's beautiful in an understated way.

-I should give you some money for the clothes.

What?

I glance over at her, and she quickly continues - You’ve already given me the books, which I can’t accept, of course. But the clothes… Please, let me pay for them.”

Sweetness.

-Carina, trust me, I can afford it.”

-It’s not about that. Why would you have to buy me these clothes?”

-Because I can. I’m a very rich woman, Carina.” Her eyes flash with malice.

-Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” Her voice is soft, but I suddenly wonder if she’s looked right through me and seen my darkest desires. - Why did you send me the books, Maya?”

Because I wanted to see you again, and here you are...

-Well, when you almost got hit by the cyclist… and I was holding you in my arms and you were looking at me and saying, ‘Kiss me, kiss me, Maya…’ I stop, remembering that moment, her body pressed against mine. Shit. I quickly push the memory aside. - Well, I thought I owed you an apology and a warning. Carina, I’m not a hearts and flowers kind of girl. I’m not into love stories. I have very peculiar tastes. You should stay away from me. But there’s something about you that just won’t let me go. It's something that I can't explain...it has never happened to me before.. I guess you've guessed as much.

-Then don’t leave - she whispers.

What?

-You don't know what you're talking about.

-Then explain it to me

Her words travel straight to my dick!

Fuck

-Aren't you celibate?" she asks.

-No, Carina, I'm not celibate. And if you'd let me tie you up, I'd prove it right now."

Her eyes widen, and her cheeks flush.

Ah, Carina.
I have to show her. It's the only way I'll know.

-What are your plans for the next few days?" I ask.

-I'm working today, starting at noon. What time is it?" she exclaims, frightened.

-A little after ten. You have plenty of time. And tomorrow?"

-Gabriella and I are going to start packing. We're moving to Seattle next weekend, and I'm working at Clayton's all this week."

-Do you have a house in Seattle yet?"

-Yes."

-Where?"

-I don't remember the address. In the Pike Market district."

-It's not far from my house."

Good!

-And what are you going to work on in Seattle?

-I've sent applications to several internships.

-And have you applied to my company, as I suggested?"

-Well... no."

-What's wrong with my company?"

-Your company or your company?" She raises an eyebrow.

-Are you laughing at me, Miss DeLuca?" I can't hide my amusement.

Oh, it would be a pleasure to coach... this challenging and maddening woman.
She examines her plate, biting her lip.

-I’d like to bite that lip,” I whisper, because it’s true. Her face flies to mine and she shifts in her seat. She tilts her chin towards me, her eyes full of trust.

-Why don’t you?” she says softly.

Oh. Don't tempt me, beautiful. I can't. Not yet.

-Because I'm not touching you, Carina… not until I have your written consent.

-What does that mean? - she asks.

-Exactly what I said. I have to show you, Carina.

So now you know what you're getting into.

-What time do you get off work this afternoon?

-Eight o'clock.

-Well, we could go to my house in Seattle for dinner tonight or next Saturday, and then I'd explain everything to you so you're familiar with the facts. Your choice.

-Why can't you tell me now?

-Because I'm enjoying my breakfast and your company. When you find out, you probably won't want to see me again.

She frowns as she processes what I said.

-Tonight - she says.

Wow. It didn't take long.

-Like Eve, you want a taste of the tree of forbidden fruit as soon as posible - I tease her.

-Are you laughing at me, Miss. Bishop? - she asks.

I squint at her.

Okay, beautiful, you asked for it.

I grab my phone and hit Taylor's number on speed dial. He answers almost immediately.

-Miss Bishop."

-Taylor, I'm going to need the Charlie Tango." She watches me closely as I make arrangements to bring my EC135 to Portland.

“I'm going to show her what I have in mind... and the rest will be up to her. She might want to come home once she knows.
I'll need Stephan, my pilot, available so I can fly her back to Portland if she decides to have nothing more to do with me. I hope that's not the case. And I realize I'm excited I get to fly her to Seattle on Charlie Tango.

It will be a first time.

-Pilot available from 10:30," I confirm with Taylor and hang up.

-Do people always do what you tell them?" she asks, the disapproval in her voice obvious. Is she scolding me now? Her defiance is annoying.

-They usually do it if they don't want to lose their job."

-Don't question how I treat my staff."

-What if they don't work for you?" she adds.

-Well, I can be very convincing, Carina. You should finish your breakfast. Then I’ll take you home. I’ll pick you up from Clayton’s at eight, when you get out. We’ll fly to Seattle.”

-Fly?”

-Yes. I have a helicopter.” Her mouth opens, forming a small o. It’s a nice moment. - Are we going to Seattle by helicopter?” she whispers.

-Yes.”

-Why?”

-Because I can.” I smile.

Sometimes it’s just fucking great to be me.

-Finish your breakfast.” She looks stunned. - Eat!” My voice is more forceful. - Carina, I can’t stand throwing food away. Eat.”

-I can’t eat all of this.” She studies all the food on the table, and I feel guilty once again.

Yes, there is too much food here.

-Eat what’s on your plate. If you had eaten properly yesterday, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have to show my hand so soon.

Damn. This could be a huge mistake.

She gives me a sidelong glance as she chases her food around her plate with a fork, her mouth set in a grimace.

-What’s so funny?” She shakes her head and stuffs the last piece of pancake into her mouth, and I try not to laugh. As always, she surprises me. She’s clumsy, unexpected, and charming. She actually makes me want to laugh.

-Good girl,” I tell her. - I’ll take you home as soon as your hair’s dry. I don’t want you to get sick. You’ll need all your strength for tonight, for what I have to show you.”

Suddenly, she stands up from the table, and I have to stop myself from telling her she’s not allowed. She’s not your submissive—yet, Bishop. On the way back to the bedroom, she stops by the couch.

-Where did you sleep last night?” she asks.

-In my bed, With you.”

-Oh.”

-Yeah, that was quite a first for me too.

-Sleeping with a woman… without sex."

She said the s-word... and the telltale blush appeared on her cheeks.

-No.

How can I tell her this without it sounding weird? Just tell her, Bishop.

-Just Sleep with a woman.

I casually turn my attention to the sports section and the description of last night's game, then watch as she disappears into the bedroom. No, that didn't sound strange at all. Well, I have another date with Miss DeLuca. No, not a date ori t is?. She needs to know about me. I let out a long sigh and drink what's left of my orange juice. This is shaping up to be a very interesting day. I'm pleased when I hear the buzz of the hairdryer and surprised that she's doing as she's told.
While I wait for her, I call a valet to get my car out of the garage and check her address one more time on Google Maps. Next, I text Andrea to email me a NDA (Non-Disclosure Agreement); if Carina wants me to enlighten her, she'll need to keep her mouth shut. My phone vibrates. It's Vic. While I'm on the phone, Carina emerges from the room and grabs her purse. Vic is talking about Darfur, but my attention is on Miss DeLuca. She's rummaging through her purse and is pleased when she finds a hair tie. Her hair is beautiful. Brown, Long, Thick. I wonder what it would look like braided. She ties it back and puts on her jacket, then sits on the couch, waiting for me to finish my call.

-Okay, go ahead. Keep me posted on how things go." I conclude my conversation with Vic.

She has been working miracles and it looks like our food shipment to Darfur will happen.

-Are you ready?” I ask Carina. She nods. I grab my jacket and the faucet and follow her to the exit. She watches me through long eyelashes as we walk toward the elevator, and her lips curl into a shy smile.

What the hell is she doing to me?
The elevator arrives, and I allow her to enter first. She presses the button for the first floor, and the doors close. In the confines of the elevator, I’m completely aware of her. A trace of her sweet fragrance invades my senses… her breathing changes, quickening a little, and she gives me a brilliant little look. Shit. She bites her lip. She’s doing this on purpose. And for a second, I’m lost in her sensual, mesmerizing gaze. She doesn’t back down.

I'm Hard. Instantly. . . I want her. Here. Now. In the elevator.

-Fuck paperwork.” The words tumble out of nowhere, and instinctively I grab her and push her against the wall. Grabbing both her hands, I pin them above her head so she can’t touch me, and once she’s secured, I twist my other hand in her hair as my lips seek and find hers. She moans into my mouth like a siren’s call, and I can finally taste her: mint, tea, and soft cherries. She tastes as good as she looks. She reminds me of a time of plenty. Oh my God. I’m craving her. I cup her chin, deepening the kiss, and her tongue tentatively touches mine… exploring. Considering. Feeling. Kissing me back.

Oh, God of heaven.

-You’re… so… sweet,” I murmur against her lips, completely intoxicated, drunk on her taste and scent. The elevator stops and the doors begin to open.

Damn it, calm down, Bishop.

I step away from her and out of her reach.

She's breathing heavily. Just like me.

When was the last time I lost control? Never, just with her…

Three men in business suits give us knowing glances as they join us. And I stare at the sign above the elevator buttons, warning of a sexy weekend at the Heathman. I glance at Carina and exhale. She smiles.

What the fuck did she do to me?

The elevator stops on the second floor and the men exit, leaving me alone with Miss DeLuca.

-You brushed your teeth,”

-I used your toothbrush,” she says, her eyes twinkling.

Of course she do that… and for some reason, I find this pleasurable, too pleasurable. I suppress my smile.

-Oh, Carina DeLuca, what am I going to do with you?” I take her hand as the elevator doors open on the first floor and mutter under my breath. - What is it about elevators?” She flashes me a knowing smile as we walk through the polished marble lobby. The car is waiting in one of the bays in front of the hotel; the valet is pacing impatiently.

Notes:

Hi, sorry for the delay, I've been busy with some things, I'll try to be more active.
Thank you for your love

Chapter 11 Summary:

I had a quick time, so here is a new chapter.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Carina's POV

Maya opens the passenger door of the black Audi 4x4 and I get in. What a beautiful car. She hasn't mentioned the passionate surge in the elevator. Should I say something? Should we talk about it or pretend nothing happened? It barely seems real, my first struggled kiss. As the minutes pass, I attribute a mythical quality to it, like a legend of King Arthur or Atlantis. It didn't happen, it never existed. Maybe I imagined it. No. I touch my lips, swollen from the kiss.

Without a doubt, it happened. I’m a different woman. I want this woman desperately, and she wanted me. I look at her. Maya is as always, proper and slightly distant. I don't understand a thing. She starts the engine and leaves her parking space. She turns on the stereo. The sweet, magical sound of two women singing fills the car. Wow... My senses are on edge, so it affects me twice as much. Chills run down my spine. Maya drives calmly and confidently toward Southwest Park Avenue.

-What's playing?"

-It's Delibes's "Flower Duet" from the opera Lakmé. Do you like it?"

-Maya, it's beautiful."

-Yes, isn't it?"

She smiles and gives me a quick glance. And for a moment she looks her age, young, carefree, and drop-dead gorgeous. Is this the key to her? The music? I hear the angelic voices, suggestive and seductive.

-Can you play it again?"

-Sure."

Maya presses a button, and the music caresses me again. It invades my senses slowly, gently, and sweetly.

-Do you like classical music?” I ask, trying to delve into her personal tastes.

-My tastes are eclectic, Carina. From Thomas Tallis to the Kings of Leon. It depends on my mood. And yours?”

-Mine too. Although I haven't met Thomas Tallis.”

She turns, looks at me for a moment, and then returns her eyes to the road.

-Someday I'll play you something by him. He's a 16th-century British composer. Church choral music from the Tudor era.” She smiles at me.

-It sounds very esoteric, I know, but it's magical.” She presses a button, and the Kings of Leon start playing. I know them.

-Sex on Fire.” Very timely. Suddenly, the ringing of a cell phone interrupts the music.

Maya presses a button on the steering wheel.

-Bishop,” she answers gruffly.

-Ms. Bishop, this is Welch. I have the information you requested.” A gruff, disembodied voice comes over the speakers.

-Fine. Email it to me. Anything else?”

-Nothing else, ma’am.” She presses the button, the call drops, and the music starts again.

No goodbye, no thank you. I’m so glad I never considered working for her. I shudder just thinking about it. She’s too controlling and cold to her employees. The phone cuts off again.

-Bishop.”

-Emailed you the nondisclosure agreement, Miss. Bishop.”

It’s a woman’s voice.

-Good. That will be all, Andrea.”

-Have a nice day, ma’am.”

Maya hangs up by pressing the button on the steering wheel. The music has barely started playing when her phone rings again. Is this what her life consists of, answering the phone over and over again?

-Bishop," she says brusquely.

-Hey, Maya. Did you get laid?"

-Hey, Jack… I'm on speakerphone, and I'm not alone in the car." Maya sighs.

-Who’s going with you?”

Maya shakes her head. “Carina DeLuca.”

-Hi, Carina!”

-Hi, Jack.”

-I’ve heard a lot about you,” - Jack murmurs hoarsely.

Maya frowns.

-Don’t believe a word Gabriella tells you,” Carina says.

Jack laughs.

-I’m taking Carina DeLuca to home,” Maya says, emphasizing my full name. - Do you want me to pick you up?”

-Sure.”

Maya hangs up and the music starts playing again.

-Why do you insist on calling me Carina DeLuca?”

-Because it’s your name.”

-I prefer just Carina.”

-Okay?

We’re almost at my house. It didn’t take long.

-Carina…” she says thoughtfully.

I give her a dirty look, but she ignores me.

-What happened in the elevator… it won’t happen again. Well, unless it was premeditated,” she says.

She stops the car in front of my house. I suddenly realize she hasn’t asked me where I live. She already knows. Of course she knows where I live, because she sent me the books. How could a stalker who can track cell phone locations and has a helicopter not know that? Why wouldn’t she kiss me again? I grimace at that thought. I don’t understand. Honestly, her last name should be Enigmatic, not Bishop. She gets out of the car and walks elegantly around to my door, which I open.
She's always the perfect lady, except maybe for rare, precious moments in elevators. I blush at the memory of her mouth against mine, and the thought crosses my mind that I couldn't touch her. I want to run my fingers through her hair, but I can't move my hands. I feel, in retrospect, frustrated.

-I liked what happened in the elevator," I murmur as I get out of the car. I'm not sure if I hear a strangled gasp, but I decide to ignore it and head up the front steps. Gabriella and Jack are sitting at the table. The fourteen-thousand-dollar books are no longer there, thankfully. I have plans for them. Gabriella flashes a goofy, uncharacteristic smile, and her messy hair makes her look very sexy. Maya follows me into the dining room, and Gabriella is smiling like she's had a great night.

-Hi, Carina." She stands up to hug me, then pulls away slightly and looks me up and down. She frowns and turns back to Maya.

-Good morning, Maya," she says in a slightly hostile tone.

-Miss Aurora," she replies in her stiff, formal tone.

-Maya, her name is Gabriella," Jack grumbles.

-Gabriella." Maya nods politely and looks at Jack, who laughs and gets up to hug me back.

-Hi, Carina.” He smiles, his eyes sparkling. I like him instantly. It’s obvious he’s nothing like Maya, but then again, they’re adopted siblings.

-Hi, Jack.” I smile at him.

-Jack, we have to go,” Maya says softly.

-Sure.” He turns to Gabriella, hug her, and gives her a long kiss.

I stare down at my feet, uncomfortable. I look up at Maya, who’s staring at me. I hold her gaze.

“Why don’t you kiss me like that?”

Jack keeps kissing Gabriella, pushing her back and bending her over so theatrically her hair almost touches the floor.

-See you later” he says, smiling. Gabriella melts. I’ve never seen her melt like this before.
Maya snorts, her expression blank, though maybe she’s a little amused. She takes a strand of hair that’s fallen out of my ponytail and tucks it behind my ear. My breath catches in my throat, and I lean my head into her fingers. Her eyes soften, and she runs her thumb over my bottom lip. My blood burns. And then she takes her hand away.

-See you later, babe,” she murmurs.

I can’t help but laugh because the line doesn’t suit her. But even though I know she’s mocking me, the words stick with me.

-I’ll pick you up at 8.” She turns, opens the front door, and steps out onto the porch. Jack follows her to the car, but turns back and blows Gabriella another kiss. I feel an unexpected pang of jealousy.

-Finally?” Gabriella asks, obviously curious, as we watch them get into the car and drive away.

-No,” I snap, hoping it will stop her from wondering further. We walk inside.

-But you obviously do,” I say.

I can’t hide my envy. Gabriella always manages to land men. She’s irresistible, beautiful, sexy, funny, sassy… The complete opposite of me. But the smile she gives me back is contagious.

-And I have a date with him tonight.” She claps and jumps like a little kid. She can’t contain her excitement and joy, and I can’t help but feel happy for her. It’ll be interesting to see Gabriella happy.

-Maya’s taking me to Seattle tonight.”

-Seattle?”

-Yes.”

-And maybe there…?”

-I hope so.”

-So you like her, huh?”

-Yes.”

-You like her enough to…”

-Yes.” She raises her eyebrows.

-Wow. Carina DeLuca finally falls in love, and it’s Maya Bishop, a beautiful, sexy, multimillionaire woman.”

-Sure, sure, it’s just for the money.” I smile until we both finally split into giggles.

-Is that a new blouse?” she asks.

I tell her the less-than-exciting details of my evening.

-Has she kissed you yet?” she asks as she makes us some coffee.

I blush -Once.”

-Once!” she exclaims.

I nod, quite embarrassed.

-She’s very private.” Gabriella frowns. -Weird

-I don’t think ‘weird’ is the right word.”

-We have to make sure you look irresistible tonight,” she says decisively.

Oh no… I can see this is going to be a waste of time, humiliating and painful.

-I have to be at work in an hour.”

-Come on.” Gabriella takes my hand and leads me to her room.

Even though I have work at Clayton’s, the hours pass very slowly. Since it’s the height of summer, I have to spend two hours restocking the shelves after closing time. It’s mindless work that gives me time to think. The truth is, I haven't been able to do it all day. Following Gabriella's tireless and frankly annoying advice, I've waxed my legs, underarms, and eyebrows, so my skin is all irritated. It was a very unpleasant experience, but Gabriella assures me it's to be expected under the circumstances.

What else does Maya expect? I have to convince Gabriella that I want to do it. For some strange reason, she doesn't trust her, maybe because she's so uptight and formal. I promised I'd text her as soon as I got to Seattle. I didn't tell her about the helicopter so she wouldn't freak out. Then there's Arizona. I have three messages and seven missed calls from her on my cell phone. She also called home twice. Gabriella wouldn't say specifically where I was, so she'll know she's covering for me, because Gabriella is always so forthright. But I decided to let her suffer. I'm mad at her.

Maya mentioned something about some papers, and I don't know if she was joking or if I'm going to have to sign something. It drives me crazy having to guess all the time. And to top it all off, I'm so nervous. Today is the big day. Am I finally ready? The goddess in me watches me, impatiently tapping one foot on the floor. She's been ready for years, and she's ready for anything with Maya Bishop, although I still don't understand what she sees in me... the timid one, Carina DeLuca… It doesn't make sense.

She's punctual, of course, and when I leave Clayton's, she's waiting for me, leaning against the back of the car. She stands up to open the door for me and smiles warmly.

-Good afternoon, Miss DeLuca," she says to me.

-Miss Bishop." I bow politely and get in the backseat of the car.

Taylor is sitting behind the wheel.

-Hi, Taylor," I say.

-Good afternoon, Miss DeLuca,” he answers in a polite and professional tone.

Maya comes through the other door and squeezes my hand gently. A shiver runs through my body.

-How was work?” she asks.

-Endless,” I reply, my voice husky, too low and full of desire.

-Yeah, it felt really long for me too.”

-What did you do?” I manage to ask.

-I went hiking with Jack.”

She raps her thumb against my knuckles again and again. My heart stops beating, and my breathing quickens. How can it affect me so much? She’s only touching a small part of my body, and already my hormones are racing. The helipad is close, so before I know it, we’re there. I wonder where the legendary helicopter is. We’re in an area of the city filled with buildings, and even I know that helicopters need room to take off and land. Taylor parks, gets out, and opens the door for me. Maya is at my side immediately, taking my hand again.

-Ready?” she asks.

I nod. I want to say, “For everything,” but I’m too nervous to say a word.

-Taylor.” She gestures to the driver, and we enter the building and head for the elevators. An elevator! The memory of our kiss from earlier returns to haunt me. I haven’t thought about anything else all day. At Clayton’s, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Mr. Clayton had to yell at me twice to get me back to Earth. To say I’ve been distracted would be an understatement.
Maya looks at me, a slight smile on her lips. Aha! She’s thinking the same thing.

-It’s only three floors,” she says, her eyes amused.
She has telepathy, I’m sure. It’s creepy. I try to keep my face impassive as we step into the elevator. The doors close, and there’s that strange electrical pull, crackling between us, taking hold of me. I close my eyes in a vain attempt to ignore her. She squeezes my hand firmly, and five seconds later the doors open onto the building's rooftop. And there it is, a white helicopter with the words BISHOP ENTERPRISES HOLDINGS, INC. in blue and the company logo on the side. This is surely a waste of company resources. She leads me into a small office where an older man sits at a desk.

-Here's your flight plan, Miss Bishop. We've reviewed everything. It's ready, waiting for you, You can take off whenever you want."

-Thank you, Joe," Maya replies with a warm smile.

Wow, someone who deserves to be treated politely by Maya. Maybe he doesn't work for her. I look at the old man in amazement.

-Come on," Maya says.

And we head for the helicopter. Up close, it's much larger than I thought. I'd assumed it would be a small, two-person model, but it seats at least seven.
Maya opens the door and points me to a seat up front.

-Sit down. And don't touch anything," she orders, climbing in behind me. She slams the door shut. I'm glad the area around it is lit, because otherwise I'd barely be able to see anything in the cabin.I settle into the seat she indicated, and she leans over to fasten my seat belt. It's a four-band harness, all connected by a central buckle. She pulls the top two straps so tight I can barely move. She's pressed against me, completely focused on what she's doing. If I could lean forward a little, I'd bury my nose in her hair. She smells clean, fresh, heavenly, but I'm firmly strapped into the seat and I can't move. She looks up at me and smiles, as if amused by this joke only she understands. Her eyes sparkle. She's so close. I hold my breath as she tightens one of the top straps.

-You're safe. You can't escape," she whispers. "Breathe, Carina," she adds soothingly.
She sits up, strokes my cheek, and runs her long fingers under my jaw, holding them with her thumb and forefinger. She leans forward and gives me a quick, chaste kiss. I'm shocked, my insides churning at the unexpected, arousing touch of her full lips.

-I like this harness," she whispers.

-What?"
She settles in next to me, straps himself into her seat, and begins a long protocol of checking gauges, flicking levers, and pressing buttons on the mind-bending array of dials, lights, and controls. Several dials blink with tiny lights, and the entire instrument panel is illuminated.

-Put on your headphones," she says, pointing to a headset in front of me. I put them on, and the rotor begins to spin. It's deafening. She puts her headset on too and continues flicking levers.

-I'm doing all the preflight checks." I hear Maya's disembodied voice through the headset. I turn and smile at her.

-Do you know what you're doing?" I ask.
She turns and smiles at me.

-I've been a pilot for four years, Carina. You're safe with me," she says, grinning from ear to ear. - Well, as long as we're flying," she adds, winking at me.
Maya winked at me!

-Ready?" I nod, my eyes wide.

-Okay, control tower. Portland Airport, this is Charlie Tango Golf-Golf Echo Hotel, ready for takeoff. I'm waiting for confirmation, over."

-Charlie Tango, go. This is Portland Airport, proceeding on 1-4-000, heading 0-1-0, over."

-Copy that, tower, this is Charlie Tango. Over and out. Go," she adds, turning to me.

The helicopter rises slowly and smoothly through the air. Portland disappears before us as we enter airspace, although my stomach remains stuck in Oregon. Wow! The lights dim to a faint flicker at our feet. It's like looking out of a fishbowl. Once you're up there, you really can't see anything. It's pitch black. Not even the moon illuminates our path.

-How can you see where we're going?"

-Disturbing, isn't it?" Maya says through her headset.

-How do you know you're going in the right direction?"

-Here," she replies, pointing her long finger at an indicator with an electronic compass. -It's a Eurocopter EC135. One of the safest. It's equipped for night flying. - She looks at me and she smiles. -

There's a helipad in my building. We're heading there.

Of course there's a helipad in her building. I feel completely out of place. The lights from the control panel illuminate her beautiful face faintly. She's deeply focused, constantly checking the various dials in front of her. I observe her features in every detail. She has a very pretty profile, a small, defined nose, small ears, and defined cheekbones. I'd like to slide my tongue over her ear. I see her, and she seems doubly tempting. Mmm... I'd like to feel her full lips, her tongue, against my face.

-When you fly at night, you can't see anything. You have to trust the aircraft," she says, interrupting my erotic fantasy.

-How long will the flight be?" I manage, almost breathless. I wasn't thinking about sex at all.

-Less than an hour... We've got the wind behind us.

In Seattle in less than an hour... Not bad at all. Of course, we're flying. There's less than an hour left until I discover everything. I feel every muscle in my stomach tense. I have a serious problem with butterflies. They're multiplying in my stomach.

-Are you okay, Carina?"

-Yes." I answer as briefly as possible because my nerves are getting the better of me. I think she's smiling, but it's hard to tell in the dark. Maya presses another button.

-Portland Airport, this is Charlie Tango, at 1:400, over." She's exchanging information with air traffic control. She sounds all professional. I think we're passing from Portland airspace to Seattle Airport.

-Roger that, Seattle, ready, over, and out." She points to a pinprick of light in the distance and says,

-Look. That's Seattle."

-Do you always impress women like this? 'Come for a ride in my helicopter'?" I ask, genuinely interested.

-I've never taken a woman in a helicopter, Carina. This is also something new, it’s the first time" she replies in a calm, but serious, tone.

Wow, I wasn't expecting this answer. Also something new?

-Are you impressed?”

-I’m overwhelmed, Maya. She smiles.

-Overwhelmed?

For a moment she’s like a Young girl with a new hobby.

I nod. -You do everything… so well.”

-Thank you, Miss DeLuca,” she says politely.

I think she liked my comment, but I’m not sure. For a while we drive through the dark night in silence. The dot of light from Seattle is growing larger.

-Seattle Tower to Charlie Tango. Flight plan to Stopover in order. Proceed, please. Ready. Over.”

-This is Charlie Tango, roger, Seattle. Ready, over, out.”

-You’re clearly amused,” I murmur.

-What?”

She looks at me. In the dim light of the instruments, she seems mocking.

-Flying,” I answer. - It requires control and concentration… how could I not love it? Although what I like most is gliding.”

-Gliding?”

-Yes.

-I fly gliding, if you understand. Gliders and helicopters. I fly both.”

-Wow. Expensive hobbies. I remember her saying that in the interview.

-I like to read, and from time to time I go to the movies. Nothing to watch.

-Charlie Tango, go ahead, please, I'll change.” The disembodied voice of air traffic control interrupts my fantasies. Maya answers confidently. Seattle is getting closer. We're on the outskirts now. Wow!

It's absolutely stunning. Seattle at night, from the sky…

-It's beautiful, isn't it?” Maya asks me in a murmur.

I nod enthusiastically. It feels otherworldly, unreal, and I feel like I'm in a giant movie studio, maybe from Arizona’s favorite film, Blade Runner. The memory of Arizona trying to kiss me makes me uncomfortable.

-We'll be there in a few minutes," Maya murmurs.

And suddenly I feel my ears ringing, my heart racing, and adrenaline coursing through me. She starts talking to air traffic control again, but I can't hear her anymore. I think I'm going to faint. My fate is in her hands. We fly between buildings, and in front of us I see a skyscraper with a helipad on the roof. The word "CALL" is painted on it in blue. It's getting closer, getting bigger and bigger... like my anxiety. I hope she doesn't notice. I don't want to disappoint her. I wish I'd listened to Gabriella and worn one of her dresses, but I like my black jeans, and I'm wearing a green button-down shirt and a black Gabriella jacket. I'm dressing up pretty well. I grip the edge of my seat tighter and tighter.

You can do it, you can do it, I repeat to myself like a mantra as we approach the skyscraper. The helicopter slows and hovers in midair. Maya lands on the runway on the building's rooftop. My stomach is in knots. I can't tell if it's nerves about what's about to happen, relief that we made it alive, or fear that this might not go well. She cuts the engine, and the motion and noise of the rotor diminish until all I hear is the sound of my ragged breathing. Maya takes off her headphones and leans down to remove mine.

-We're here," she says softly. Her gaze is intense, half in the darkness and half illuminated by the white landing lights. An apt metaphor for Maya: The Dark Lady and the White Lady. She seems tense. Her jaw clenches and her blue eyes narrow. She unbuckles her seatbelt and leans over to undo mine. Her face is inches from mine.

-You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You know that, right?” Her tone is very serious, even distressed, and her eyes,burning. It takes me by surprise.

-I would never do anything I didn't want to do, Maya.

And as I say this, I feel like I'm not entirely convinced, because right now I'd probably do anything for the woman sitting next to me. But my words work, and Maya calms down. She looks at me warily for a moment, and then she moves gracefully to the helicopter door and opens it. She jumps out, waits for me, and takes my hand to help me down to the runway. It's very windy on the roof of the building, and I'm nervous about being in an open space some thirty stories up. Maya puts her arm around my waist and pulls me along.

-Come on," she yells over the noise of the wind.

She drags me to an elevator, types a number on a panel, and the door opens. It's warm in the elevator, enclosed in mirrors. I can see Maya as far as the eye can see, and the nice thing is that she also has me in her grasp. She types another code, the doors close, and the elevator starts to descend. In a moment, we're in a completely white lobby. In the middle is a round dark wood table with a huge bouquet of white flowers. The walls are covered in paintings. She opens a double door, and the whiteness extends into a wide hallway that leads us to the entrance of an immense room. It's the main living room, with extremely high ceilings. To call it "enormous" would be a gross understatement. The back wall is glass and opens onto a balcony with magnificent views of the city. To the right is an imposing U-shaped sofa that could comfortably seat ten people. In front of it is an ultramodern stainless steel fireplace... or maybe it's platinum. The lit fire flickers softly. To the left, next to the entrance, is the kitchen area. All white, with a dark wood countertop and a bar that can seat six. Next to the kitchen area, facing the glass wall, is a dining table surrounded by sixteen chairs. And in the corner is a huge, gleaming black piano. Of course... she probably plays the piano too. There are paintings of all shapes and sizes on the walls. In fact, the apartment feels more like a gallery than a home.

-Can I have your jacket?” Maya asks.

I shake my head. I caught a chill on the helicopter pad.

-Want a drink?” she asks.

I blink. After what happened yesterday? Is she kidding or something? For a second, I think about ordering her a margarita, but I don’t dare.

-I’ll have a glass of white wine. Would you like another?”

-Yes, thank you,” I murmur. I feel uncomfortable in this enormous living room. I walk over to the glass wall and notice that the lower part of the panel opens accordion-style to the balcony. Seattle is visible below, lit and bustling. I back into the kitchen area—it takes a few seconds because it’s so far from the glass wall—where Maya is opening a bottle of wine. She’s taken off her jacket.

-Is a Pouilly Fumé okay?”

-I don’t know anything about wine, Maya. I'm sure it will be perfect”

My voice is low and halting. My heart is beating fast. I want to run away. This is real luxury, over-the-top, style wealth. What am I doing here? You know exactly what you're doing here, my subconscious taunts me. Yes, I want to go to bed with Maya Bishop.

-Here," she says, handing me a glass of wine. Even the glasses are luxurious, thick crystal, and very modern. I take a sip. The wine is light, crisp, and delicious.

-You're so quiet, and you haven't even turned red. Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen you so pale, Carina," she murmurs.

-Are you hungry?"

I shake my head. Not for food.

-What a big house."

-Big?"

-Big."

-It is big," she admits with an amused look. I take another sip of wine.

-Can you play?" - I ask, pointing at the piano.

-Yes.

-Of course. Is there anything you're not good at?

-Yes... a couple or three things. - She takes a sip of wine without taking her eyes off me. I feel her gaze following me as I turn and look around the immense living room. But I shouldn't call it a 'living room'. It's not a living room, it's a statement of principle.

-Do you want to sit down?

I nod. She takes my hand and leads me to the large cream sofa. As I sit down, the thought strikes me that I look like Tess Durbeyfield surveying the new house of the notary, Alec d'Urberville. The thought makes me smile.

-What do you think is so amusing?

She's sitting next to me, looking at me. She's leaning her right elbow on the back of the sofa, her hand under her chin.

-Why did you give me Tess of the d'Urbervilles of all people? - I ask her.

She's leaning her right elbow on the back of the sofa, her hand under her chin.

Maya stares at me for a moment. I think she's surprised by my question.

-Well, you told me you liked Thomas Hardy."

-Just because of that?" Even I'm aware that my voice sounds disappointed. She presses her lips together.

-It seemed appropriate. I could push you to some impossible ideal, like Angel Clare, or corrupt you completely, like Alec d'Urberville," she murmurs. Her eyes are glittering, impenetrable, and she looks dangerous.

-If there are only two possibilities, I choose corruption," I whisper, looking at her.

My subconscious watches me in astonishment. Maya's mouth falls open.

-Carina, please stop biting your lip. You're throwing me off. You don't know what you're talking about."

-That's why I'm here."

She frowns. -Yes. Will you excuse me for a moment?" She disappears through a large door at the far end of the room. Two minutes later, she returns, holding some papers.
-This is a nondisclosure agreement." - She shrugs, looking slightly uncomfortable. - My lawyer insisted. - She hands it to me. I'm completely perplexed. - If you choose the second option, corruption, you'll have to sign it.

-And if I don't want to sign anything?

-Then you're stuck with Angel Clare's ideals, well, at least for most of the book.

-What does this agreement entail?”

-It means you can’t share anything that happens between us. Nothing with anyone.”
I watch her in disbelief. Shit. She has to be bad, really bad, and now I’m really curious about what it is.

-Okay, I’ll sign it.”

She hands me a pen. - Aren’t you even going to read it?”

-No.”

She frowns - Carina, you should always read everything you sign,” she scolds.

-Maya, what you’re not understanding is that under no circumstances would I discuss us with anyone. Not even Gabriella. So it doesn’t matter whether I sign an agreement or not. If it’s that important to you or your lawyer, whom you’re obviously talking about me, I’ll sign it.”
She looks at me intently and nods very seriously.

-Good point, Miss DeLuca.”

I grandly sign both copies and hand one back to her. I fold the other one, put it in my bag, and take a long sip of wine. I look much braver than I feel.

-Does that mean you’re going to make love to me tonight, Maya?

Damn! Did I just say that?” Her mouth opens slightly, but she quickly composes herself.

-No, Carina, that’s not what it means. First of all, I don’t make love. I fuck…hard. Second, we have a lot more paperwork to sort out. And third, you still don’t know what this is about. You could still bolt.

Come on, I want to show you my playroom.”

My jaw drops open. I fuck hard! Oh my God. That sounds so hot, so sexy. But why are a playroom? I’m stumped.

-You want to play with you Xbox?” I ask.

She laughs loudly. - No, Carina, not Xbox or PlayStation. Come on.” She stands and holds out her hand. I let her lead me back to the hallway. To the right of the double doors we came through is another door that leads to a staircase. We go upstairs and turn right. She takes a key from her pocket, turns it in the lock of another door, and takes a deep breath.

-You can leave anytime. The helicopter is ready to take you wherever you want. You can spend the night here and leave tomorrow morning. Whatever you decide will be fine with me.”

-Open the damn door, Maya.” She opens the door and steps aside so I can go in first. I look at her again. I want to know what’s in there. I take a deep breath and walk in. And I feel like I’ve been transported back to the 16th century, to the time of the Spanish Inquisition.

Notes:

Carina chose corruption and Maya is falling hard for her. Will this be the big night?
I'll try to update a little faster, but I can't promise anything.

Chapter 12 Summary:

Okay, I couldn't leave you without Maya's POV

Chapter Text

Maya's POV

The car is waiting in one of the bays in front of the hotel; the valet is pacing impatiently. I give her an obscene tip and open the passenger door for Carina, who is quiet and thoughtful.

But she didn't run away. Even though I threw myself at her in the elevator. I should say something about what happened there, but what? Am I sorry? How was it for you? What the hell are you doing to me?

I start the car and decide the less I say, the better. The soothing sound of Delibes's "Flower Duet" fills the car, and I begin to relax.

-What's that playing?" Carina asks as I turn onto Southwest Jefferson Street. I tell her and ask if she likes it.

-Maya, it’s beautiful.” Hearing my name on her lips is a strange pleasure. She said it about half a dozen times now, and each time is different. Today, it’s with wonder, because of the music. It’s great that she likes the song: it’s one of my favorites. I find myself smiling; she’s obviously forgiven me for the attack in the elevator.

-Can you play it again?”

-Sure.” I press the touchscreen to repeat the music.

-Do you like classical music?” she asks as we cross the Freemont Bridge, and we fall into a relaxed conversation about my musical tastes. As we talk, I receive a call on the speakerphone.

-Bishop,” I answer.

-Ms. Bishop, this is Welch. I have the information you asked for.”

“Oh, yes, details about the photographer.”

-Good. Email it to me. Anything else?”

-Nothing else, ma’am.”

I press the button, and the music returns. We both listen, now lost in the raw sound of Kings of Leon. But it doesn't last long, our listening pleasure is once again disturbed by the hands-free kit.

What the devil?

-Bishop,” I snap.

-I emailed you the NDA, Ms. Bishop.”

-Good. That will be all, Andrea.”

-Have a nice day, ma’am.”

I shoot a glance at Carina, to see if she’s been paying attention to that conversation, but she’s studying the Portland scenery. I suspect she’s being polite. It’s hard to keep my eyes on the road. I want to look at her. Despite her awkwardness, she has a beautiful neck, one I want to kiss from below her ear to her shoulder. Hell. I shift in my seat. I hope she’ll agree to sign the NDA and accept what I have to offer. As we hit Interstate 5, I get another call.

It's Jack.

-Hey, Maya. Did you get laid?

Oh… cool, dude, cool.

-Hey, Jack… I’m using hands-free, and I’m not alone in the car.

-Who’s going with you?

-Carina DeLuca.

-Hey, Carina!

-Hey, Jack,—she says, excited.

-I’ve heard a lot about you,—Jack says.

Shit. What did she tell you?

-Don't believe a word Gabriella tells you," she replies matter-of-factly. Jack laughs.

-I'm taking Carina home. Do you want me to pick you up?" I interrupt.

There's no doubt Jack will want to make a quick exit.

-Sure."

I hang up.

-Why do you keep calling me Carina DeLuca?" she asks.

-Because it's your name."

-I prefer Carina."

-Okay"

-Carina” that name have the power to hurt… And, in that moment, I know that her rejection, when it comes, will be difficult to bear. It’s happened before, but I’ve never felt so… determined. I don’t even know this girl, but I want to know her, all of her. Maybe it’s because I’ve never been after a woman before. Bishop, pull yourself together and follow the rules, otherwise this will all go to shit.

-Carina,” I say, ignoring her disapproving look. - What happened in the elevator… it won’t happen again. Well, unless it was premeditated.”
That keeps her quiet as I park outside her apartment. Before she can answer, I get out of the car, walk around, and open her door. As she steps onto the curb, she gives me a fleeting glance.

-I liked what happened in the elevator,” she says.

Really?

Her confession stops me in my tracks. I'm pleasantly surprised again by little Miss DeLuca. As she climbs the steps to the front door, I have to hurry to catch up. Jack and Gabriella look up when we enter. They're sitting at the dining room table in a sparsely furnished room suitable for a couple of students. There are a few packing boxes next to a shelf. Jack seems relaxed and in no hurry to leave, which surprises me.

Aurora jumps up and gives me another critical look while hugging Carina.

What did you imagine I was going to do to the girl? I know what I'd like to do to her...

As Aurora holds her with one arm, I'm mollified; maybe she does care about Carina, too.

-Good morning, Maya," she says, her tone cold and condescending.

-Miss Aurora." And I want to say something sarcastic about how she’s finally showing some interest in your friend, but I hold my tongue.

-Maya, her name is Gabriella," Jack says with slight irritation.

-Gabriella," I murmur, to be polite. Jack hugs Carina, holding her for a moment too long.

-Hi, Carina," he says, grinning like an idiot.

-Hi, Jack." She grins widely.

Okay, this is getting unbearable.

-Jack, we have to go.

And take your hands off her.

-Sure,” he says, releasing Carina, but grabbing Aurora and making an unseemly show of kissing her.

Oh, for the love of God.

Carina is uncomfortable watching them. I don't blame her, but when she turns to me, she has a speculative look squinting in her eyes.

What is she thinking?

-See you later” Jack murmurs, drooling over Aurora.

Dude, show some dignity, for God's sake.

Carina's reproachful eyes are on me, and for a moment, I don't know if it's Jack and Gabriella's lascivious display or...

Hell!! This is what she wants. To be courted and wooed. I'm not romantic, honey.

A strand of her hair has fallen free, and without thinking, I tuck it behind her ear. She leans her head into my fingers, the tender gesture surprising me. My thumb brushes over her soft bottom lip, which I'd like to kiss her again. But I can't. Not until I have her consent.

-See you later, babe," I whisper, and her face softens with a smile.

Now who's the one with no dignity? Very soft, Bishop.

-I'll pick you up at eight."

Reluctantly, I turn and open the door, Jack following behind me.

-Mayy, I need to get some sleep," Jack says as soon as we're in the car. - That woman is greedy."

-Seriously..." My voice drips with sarcasm.

The last thing I want is a blow-by-blow report of his assignment.

-What about you, big shot? Did she take your virginity?"

I give her a "fuck you" look. Jack laughs.

-May, you are one stuck-up bitch." - He pulls his Sounders cap over his face and settles into his seat for a nap.

I turn up the music.

Sleep with that, dear brother…Jack!

Yes. I envy my brother: his ease with women and his ability to sleep.

Saturday, May 21, 2022

Arizona Robbins's background check reveals a marijuana possession ticket. There's nothing in her court records related to sexual harassment. Maybe she would have gotten her first one last night if I hadn't intervened. And the little jerk smokes weed? I hope she doesn't smoke around Carina, and I hope she doesn't smoke either, period. Opening Andrea's email, I send the nondisclosure agreement to the printer in my home studio at the Escala. Carina will need to sign it before I show her my playroom. And, in a moment of weakness, arrogance, or maybe unprecedented optimism—I don't know which—I type her name and address into my standard Dom/Sub contract and print that out as well. There's a knock at the door.

-Hey, big shot. We're going on a hike," Jack says on the other end.

Ah… the child has woken up from his nap.

The scent of pine, damp earth, and late spring is like a balm to my senses. The smell reminds me of those heady days of my childhood, running through a forest with Jack and my sister Andy under the watchful eyes of our adoptive parents. The calm, the space, the freedom… the crunch of dry pine needles under our feet. Here in the great outdoors, I could forget.

This was a refuge for my nightmares.

Jack chatters away, needing only my occasional grunt to keep him talking. As we make our way down the Willamette's cobblestone path, my mind wanders to Carina. For the first time in a long time, I feel a sweet sense of anticipation. I'm excited.

Will she accept my proposal?

I imagine her sleeping beside me, soft and small… and my dick twitches with anticipation. I could have woken her up and fucked her right then and there… What a novelty that would have been.

I'll fuck her when the time is right. I'll fuck her tied up with her shiny mouth covered.

Clayton's is quiet. The last customer left five minutes ago. And I'm waiting, again, tapping my fingers against my thighs. Patience isn't my strong suit. Even the long walk with Jack today hasn't quelled my restlessness. He's having dinner with Gabriella tonight at the Heathman. Two dates on consecutive nights isn't his usual style.

Suddenly, the fluorescent lights inside the store flash, the door opens, and Carina steps out into the quiet Portland night. My heart starts hammering. This is either the beginning of a new relationship, or the beginning of the end. She waves goodbye to a young man escorting her. It's not the same man I met the last time I was here; it's someone new. He watches her walk to the car, his eyes on her backside. Taylor distracts me by moving to get out of the car, but I stop him. This is mine, she’s mine. When I get out of the car, holding the door open for her, the new guy is closing up the store and no longer ogling Miss DeLuca.

Her lips curve into a shy smile as she approaches, her hair in a loose ponytail that dances in the night breeze.

-Good evening, Miss DeLuca.”

-Miss Bishop,” she says.

She’s dressed in black jeans… jeans, again. She waves to Taylor as she gets into the backseat of the car. Once I’m beside her, I take her hand as Taylor drives onto the empty road and heads toward the Portland heliport.

-How was work?” I ask, enjoying the feel of her hand on mine.

-Endless,” she says, her voice husky.

-Yeah, it felt really long to me too.”

It's been hell waiting the last couple of hours!

-What did you do?" she asks.

-I went hiking with Jack." Her hand is warm and soft.

She looks down at our intertwined fingers, and I stroke her knuckles with my thumb over and over. Her breath catches, and her eyes find mine. In them, I see her longing and desire… and her sense of anticipation. I just hope she'll accept my proposal. Fortunately, the walk to the helipad is short. When we get out of the car, I take her hand again. She looks a little puzzled.

Ah. You must be wondering where the helicopter is.

-Ready?" I ask. She nods, and I lead her into the building, toward the elevator. She gives me a quick, knowing look.

She's remembering the kiss this morning, but... so am I.

-It's only three floors," I murmur.

As we walk in, I make a mental note to fuck her in an elevator someday. That is, if she agrees to my deal. Up on the roof, Charlie Tango, fresh from Boeing Field, is prepped and ready to fly, though there's no sign of Stephan, who brought it here. But Joe, who runs the Portland heliport, is in the office. He waves when I see him. He's older than my grandfather, and what he doesn't know about flying isn't worth knowing; he flew Sikorskys in Korea for an emergency evacuation and, man, he does have some good stories that make your hair stand on end.

-Here's your flight plan, Miss Bishop," Joe says, his deep voice betraying his age. "We've reviewed everything. It's ready, waiting for you, ma'am. You can take off whenever you want."

-Thanks, Joe.

A quick glance at Carina tells me she's excited... and so am I. This is a first.

-Let's go." With her hand in mine once more, I lead Carina onto the helipad toward Charlie Tango. The safest Eurocopter in its class and an absolute joy to fly. It's my pride and joy. I hold the door open for Carina; she climbs in, and I follow behind her.

-This way," I order, pointing toward the passenger seat up front. -Sit down. And don't touch anything." I'm amazed when she does what I tell her.

Once in her seat, she examines the array of instruments with a mixture of wonder and excitement. Leaning in beside her, I secure her with the seatbelt, trying not to imagine her naked as I do so. I take a little longer than necessary because this may be my last chance to be this close to her, my last chance to inhale her sweet, provocative scent. Once she learns of my predilections, she may bolt… then again, she may embrace the lifestyle. The possibilities this conjures in my mind are almost overwhelming. She's watching me intently; she's so close… so adorable. I press the last button. She's not going anywhere. Not for an hour, at least.

Suppressing my animosity, I whisper, - You’re safe. You can’t get away.” She inhales sharply. -Breathe, Carina,” I add, and caress her cheek. Cupping her chin, I lean in and kiss her quickly. -I like this harness,” I murmur. I want to tell her I have other ones, leather ones, that I’d like to see her tied up in and suspended from the ceiling. But I behave, sit down, and buckle myself in.

-Put on your headphones." I point to the headset in front of Carina. "I'm running all the preflight checks." All instruments look good. I push the throttle to 1,500 rpm, set the transponder to standby, and turn on the lights. Everything's set and ready to fly. . .

-Do you know what you're doing?" she asks, amazed. I inform her that I've been a qualified pilot for four years. Her smile is contagious.

-"You're safe with me," I reassure her, adding, "Well, as long as we're flying." I wink at her, she smiles, and I find myself dazzled.

-"Ready?" I ask, and I can't believe how excited I am to have her here by my side. She nods.

I call the tower—they're awake—and rev it to 2,000 rpm. Once they give us the all-clear, I make final checks. The oil temperature is at 104. Good. I increase the intake valve pressure to 14, the engine to 2,500 rpm, and push the accelerator. And like the graceful bird she is… Charlie Tango takes to the air. Carina gasps as the ground disappears beneath us, but she doesn't speak, entranced by the lights of Portland at night. Soon, we're plunged into darkness; the only light emanates from the instruments in front of us. Carina's face is illuminated by the red and green glow as she stares out into the night.

-Disturbing, isn't it?

Although, I don't think so. For me, it's a relief. Nothing can hurt me here. I'm safe and hidden in the darkness.

-How do you know you're going in the right direction?" Carina asks. -Here," I point to the panel. I don't want to bore her with instrument flight rules, but the fact is that at night, you can't see anything. You have to trust the instruments," I tell her.

-How long will the flight be?"

All the equipment in front of me guides us to our destination: the pitch indicator, the altimeter, the VSI, and, of course, the GPS. I tell her about Charlie Tango and how it's equipped for night flying.

Carina looks at me, amazed.

-There's a helipad in my building. We're heading there. I look back at the dashboard, reviewing the data.

This is what I love: control, my security and well-being resting on my mastery of the technology in front of me.

-Less than an hour... we're on the right wind." I look at her again.

-Are you okay, Carina?"

-Yes," she says, her voice oddly abrupt.

Is she nervous? Or maybe she's regretting her decision to be here with me.

The thought is disconcerting. She hasn't given me a chance. I find myself distracted by air traffic control for a moment. Then, as we clear, I see Seattle in the distance, a streetlight twinkling in the darkness.

-Look. That’s Seattle.” I direct Carina’s attention to the bright lights.

-Do you always impress women like this?”

-Come for a ride in my helicopter? I’ve never taken a woman in a helicopter before, Carina. This is a first, too.

-I’m overwhelmed, Maya. - she whispers.

-Overwhelmed? - My smile is unbidden. And I remember Grace, my mother, stroking my hair as I read aloud from “The Once and Future King.”

Maya, that's wonderful. I'm overwhelmed, "honey."

I was seven years old and had barely begun to speak.

-You do everything… so well,” Carina continues.

-Thank you, Miss DeLuca.”

My face heats with pleasure at her unexpected praise. I hope she doesn’t notice.

-You clearly enjoy it,” she says a moment later.

-What?”

-Flying, It demands control and concentration.

“Two qualities I enjoy very much.”

-How could I not? Although I love gliding the most.”

-Gliding?”

-Yes. Gliding.

-Gliders and helicopters. I fly both.”

Maybe I should take her gliding? You're getting ahead of yourself, Bishop. Since when do you take someone gliding? Since when do I bring someone to fly Charlie Tango? Never, she’s the first one.

The air training corps focuses me back on the flight path, halting my thoughts as we approach the outskirts of Seattle. We're close. And I'm closer to knowing if this is a pipe dream or not. Carina is staring out the window, entranced.

I can't take my eyes off her. Please say yes.

-It's nice, isn't it?" I ask, so she'll turn around so I can see her face with a huge smile that instantly excites me.
-We'll be there in a few minutes," I add.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the cabin changes, and I become more acutely aware of her. Breathing deeply, I inhale her scent and feel the anticipation. Carina is Mine. As we descend, I carry Charlie Tango through the downtown area toward the Escala, my home, and my heart rate quickens. Carina starts to fidget. She's nervous, too. I hope she doesn't bolt. When the helipad comes into view, I take another deep breath.

Here we go...

We land softly, and I shut down, watching the rotor blades slow and stop. All we can hear is the hiss of static in our headphones as we sit in silence. I take off my headphones, then take Carina's.

-We've arrived," I say quietly. Her face is pale in the glow of the landing lights, her beautiful eyes bright.

God, she's beautiful.

I unbuckle my harness and reach over to unbuckle hers. She looks at me sideways. Trusting. Young. Sweet. Her delicious scent is nearly my undoing.

Can I do this with her? She's an adult. She can make her own decisions. And I want her to look at me this way once she gets to know me… to know what I'm capable of.

-You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You know that, right?" - She must understand this. I want her submission, but more than that, I want her consent and I want her.

-I would never do anything I didn't want to do, Maya."

She sounds sincere, and I want to believe her. With those reassuring words echoing in my head, I get out and open the door, then jump onto the helipad. I take her hand as she steps out of the helicopter. The wind whips her hair around her face, and she looks anxious. I don't know if it's because she's here with me, alone, or because we're 30 stories up. I know it's a dizzying feeling to be up here.

-Let's go." Wrapping my arm around her to shield her from the wind, I guide her toward the elevator. We're both silent as we take the short walk to the penthouse. She's wearing a pale green button-down shirt under her black jacket. It suits her. I make a mental note to include blues and greens in the clothing I'll give her if she agrees to my terms. She should be better dressed. Her eyes find mine in the elevator mirrors as the doors open to my apartment.

She follows me through the foyer, down the corridor and into the living room.

-Can I have your jacket?" I ask. Carina shakes her head and tightens her lapels to emphasize that she wants to keep her jacket on.

OK.

-Do you want a drink?" I try a different approach and decide I need a drink to steady my nerves.

Why am I so nervous? Because I want her...

-I'm going to have a glass of white wine. Do you want one?

-Yes, please, she says.

In the kitchen, I take off my jacket and open the wine cooler. A Sauvignon Blanc would be a good icebreaker. Pulling out a serviceable Pouilly-Fumé, I watch Carina appear through the balcony doors into view. As she turns and walks toward the kitchen, I wonder if she'd be happy with the wine I've selected.

-I don't know anything about wines, Maya. I'm sure it'll be perfect." She sounds subdued.

Shit. This isn't going well. Is she overwhelmed? Is that all?

I pour two glasses and walk over to where she's standing in the middle of my living room, looking like a lamb about to be slaughtered. The stunning woman is gone. She seems lost.

Like me...

-Here." I hand her the glass, and she immediately takes a sip, closing her eyes at the wine's obvious appreciation. When she lowers the glass, her lips are moist.

Good choice, Bishop.

-You're so quiet, and you haven't even turned red. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you so pale, Carina. Are you hungry?"

She shakes her head and takes another sip. Maybe she's also in need of a little liquid courage.

-What a big house," she says, her voice timid.

-Big?"

Big my dick

-Do you play?" She looks at the piano.

-Yes.

-Of course I do. Is there anything you can't do well?"

-Yes... a couple of things."

Cooking. Telling jokes. Having a free and easy conversation with a woman I'm attracted to. Being touched...

-Do you want to sit down?" I gesture toward the couch. A brisk nod tells me she wants to. Taking her hand, I lead her there, and she sits down, giving me a mischievous look.

-What's so funny?" I ask, taking a seat next to her. -Why did you give me Tess of the d'Urbervilles of all people?"

Oh. Where is this going?

-Well, you told me you liked Thomas Hardy.

-Is that the only reason?

I don't want to tell her, that is my first edition, and that was a better choice than Jude the Obscure.

-It seemed appropriate. I could lead you to a certain, very impossible ideal like Angel Clare, or corrupt you completely like Alec d'Urberville." My answer is truthful enough, and it has a certain irony in it. What I am about to propose, I suspect, will fall far short of your expectations.

-If there are only two options, I choose corruption," she whispers.

Damn. Isn't that what you want, Bishop?

-Carina, please stop biting your lip. You're distracting me. You don't know what you're saying.

-That's why I'm here - she says, her teeth leaving small indentations in her wine-damp bottom lip. And there she is: disarmed once again, surprising me at every turn. My dick agrees.

We're cutting to the chase on this agreement, but before we explore the details, we need you to sign the ADC. I excuse myself and head to my study. The contract and ADC are ready on the printer. I leave the contract on my desk.

I don't know if we'll ever get there, I staple the ADC and return to Carina.

-This is a confidentiality agreement.” I put it on the coffee table in front of her. She looks confused and surprised. -My lawyer insists on it,” I add. -If you choose option two, corruption, you’ll have to sign this.”

-And if I don’t want to sign anything?”

-Then you’re stuck with Angel Clare’s high ideals—well, most of the book anyway.”

-And I won’t be able to touch you. I’ll send you home with Stephan.

And I’ll do my best to forget you. My anxiety; this agreement could send everything to shit.

-What does this agreement entail?

-It entails that you can't reveal anything that happens between us. Nothing to anyone.

She searches my face and I don't know if she's confused or upset.

This could go either way.

-Okay. I'll sign," she says. Well, that was easy. I hand her my Mont Blanc, and she places the pen on the signature line.

-Aren't you even going to read it?" I ask, suddenly annoyed.

-"No."

-Carina, you must always read everything you sign.

How can she be so silly? Didn't her parents teach her anything?

-Maya, what you can't understand is that I wouldn't talk about us to anyone under any circumstances. Not even Gabriella. So it doesn't matter if I sign an agreement or not. If it means that much to you, or your lawyer, who you obviously talk to about me, then fine. I'll sign.

She has an answer for everything. It's refreshing.

-Good point, Miss DeLuca,” I say tersely. With a quick disapproving glance, she signs.

And before I can start my speech, she asks me: "Does that mean you're going to make love to me tonight, Maya?"

What? Me? Make love? Oh, Bishop, let's disabuse her of her pretense right away.

-No, Carina, that's not what it means. First of all, I don't make love. I fuck...hard.
She gasps. That made her think.

-Second, we have a lot more paperwork to sort out. And third, you still don't know what this is about. You could still run away. Come on, I want to show you my playroom. - She's perplexed, a small v forming between her eyebrows.

-Do you want to play your Xbox? I laugh out loud.

Oh, baby...

-No, Carina, not with the Xbox or the PlayStation. Come." Standing, I offer her my hand, which she takes gladly. I lead her into the hallway and up the stairs, where I pause in front of my playroom door, my heart hammering in my chest.

This is it. Kill or be killed. Have I ever been so nervous? Realizing my wishes depend on turning this key, I open the door, and at that moment I need to reassure her.

—You can leave anytime. The helicopter is ready, waiting to take you wherever you want to go; you can spend the night here and return home in the morning. Whatever you decide, that's fine.

-Open the damn door already, Maya," she says with a stubborn expression and her arms crossed.

This is a crossroads. I don't want her to run away. But I've never felt this exposed.

Chapter 13 Summary:

NSFW

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The first thing I notice is the smell: leather, wood, and wax with a faint lemon scent. It's very pleasant, and the light is dim, subtle. I can't actually see where it's coming from—somewhere by the cornice, and it gives off an ambient glow. The walls and ceiling are a dark burgundy color, giving the spacious room a womb-like effect, and the floor is very old varnished wood. On the wall opposite the door is a large wooden X, high-gloss mahogany, with handcuffs on the ends for restraints. Above it is a large iron grid suspended from the ceiling, at least two meters square, from which hang all sorts of shiny ropes, chains, and shackles. Near the door, two large, gleaming, ornate posts, like balusters on a railing but larger, hang along the wall like curtain rods. From them hangs an impressive collection of clubs, whips, riding crops, and curious feathered instruments. Next to the door is a solid mahogany cabinet with very narrow drawers, as if they were meant to house exhibits in an old museum. For a moment I wonder what's inside. Do I want to know? In the far corner, I see a padded, maroon-colored leather bench, and against the wall is a wooden rack that looks like a cue rack for pool sticks, but upon closer inspection, I discover it contains rods of various sizes and thicknesses. In the opposite corner is a solid table almost two meters long—gleaming wood with carved legs—and below it, two matching stools. But what dominates the room is a bed. It's larger than a double bed, with a four-poster canopy carved in the Rococo style. It looks like it dates from the late 19th century. Beneath the canopy, I see more gleaming chains and handcuffs. There's no bedding... just a mattress covered in red fur, and several red satin cushions at one end. A few feet from the foot of the bed is a large maroon Chesterfield sofa, planted in the middle of the room, facing the bed. Strange layout... putting a sofa in front of the bed. And I smile to myself. The sofa seems odd to me, when in reality it's the most ordinary piece of furniture in the entire room. I raise my eyes and look at the ceiling. It's covered in carabiners, at irregular intervals. I wonder for a second what they're for. It's strange, but all that wood, the dark walls, the dim lighting, and the maroon leather make the room seem sweet and romantic... I know it's anything but. That's what Maya means by sweet and romantic. I turn around, and she's staring at me, as I expected, with an impenetrable expression. I move forward in the room, and she follows. The feather contraption has intrigued me. I decide to touch it. It's suede, like a small cat-o'-nine-tails, but thicker and with little plastic balls on the ends.

-It's a whip," Maya says in a low, sweet voice.

A whip... Oh. I think I'm in shock. My subconscious has migrated,Either she's gone mute, or she's simply fallen over and died. I'm paralyzed. I can observe and absorb, but I can't articulate what I feel about all this, because I'm in a state of shock. What's the appropriate reaction when you discover your would-be lover is a complete sadist or masochist? Fear... yes... that seems to be the main feeling. I realize it now. But strangely not from her. I don't think she hurt me. Well, not without my consent. Countless questions cloud my mind. Why? How? When? How often? Who? I walk over to the bed and run my hands along one of the posts. It's very thick, and the carving is impressive.

-Say something," Maya asks me, her tone deceptively sweet.

-Do you do it to people, or do they do it to you?" Her mouth purses, unsure if it's amused or relieved.

-People?” She blinks a couple of times, as if she’s thinking about what to answer. -I do it to women who want that”

I don’t understand.

-If you have volunteers willing to agree to this, what am I doing here?”

-Because I want to do it with you, I desire it.”

-Oh.” My mouth falls open. Why? I walk to the other corner of the room, slide my hand across the padded, waist-high bench, and slide my fingers over the skin. She likes hurting women. The thought depresses me.

-Are you a sadist?”

-I’m a Mistress.” Her blue eyes turn searing, intense.

-What does that mean?”

-It means I want you to surrender everything to me voluntarily.”

I frown at her, trying to wrap my head around this.

-Why would I do something like this?”

-To please me,” she murmurs, tilting her head. I see a smile form across her face. Please her! She wants me to please her! I think my jaw drops. Please Maya Bishop. And in that moment, I realize that yes,this is exactly what I want to do. I want her to enjoy me. It’s a revelation.

-Let’s just put it very simply, I want you to want to please me,” she says, her voice low, hypnotic.

-How do I do that?” My mouth feels dry. I wish I had more wine. Okay, I understand about pleasing her, but the Elizabethan torture cabinet has me baffled. Do I want to know the answer?

-I have rules, and I want you to follow them. They’re rules that benefit you and give me pleasure. If you follow these rules to please me, I will reward you. If you don't, I will punish you so you learn," she whispers.

While she talks to me, I look at the rack of wands.

-So where does all this come in?" I ask, gesturing around the room.

-It's part of the incentive package. Both the reward and the punishment. Then you will enjoy exerting your will over me. It's about earning your trust and respect so that you will allow me to exert my will
over you. I will derive great pleasure, even joy, if you submit. The more you submit, the greater my joy. The equation is simple enough.

-Okay, so what's my reward?" She shrugs, seemingly apologetic.

-Me," she simply answers.

My God… Maya watches me, running her hand through her hair. - Carina, there's no way to know what you're thinking," she murmurs nervously. - Let's go back downstairs so I can focus. It's really distracting being here with you." She holds out her hand, but now I don't know if I should take it. Gabriella had told me she was dangerous, and she was so right. How did she know? It's dangerous for my health, because I know I'm going to say yes. And part of me doesn't want to. Part of me wants to scream and run out of this room and everything it stands for. I feel so disoriented.

-I'm not going to hurt you, Carina." I know she's not lying to me. I take her hand and walk with her out of the room.

-I want to show you something, in case you want to stay" Instead of going down the stairs, turn right out of the playroom,as she calls it, and heads down a hallway. We pass several doors until we reach the last one. On the other side is a bedroom with a double bed. Everything is white... everything: the furniture, the walls, the bedding. It's sterile and cold, but with a beautiful view of Seattle from the glass wall.

-This will be your room. You can decorate it however you want and have whatever you want here."

-My room? Are you expecting me to come live here?" I ask Maya, unable to hide my horrified tone.

-Not live here. Just, let's say, from Friday night to Sunday. We have to talk about it and negotiate. If you agree," she adds in a low, hesitant voice.

-Will I sleep here?"

-Yes."

-Not with you."

-No. I already told you. I don't sleep with anyone. Only with you when you've gotten yourself drunk," she says in a scolding tone. I press my lips together. Something doesn't add up. Kind, caring Maya, who rescues me when I'm drunk and gently holds me while I throw up in the azaleas, and the crazy woman who has a special room full of whips and chains.

-Where do you sleep?”

-My room is downstairs. Come on, you must be hungry.”

-It's weird, but I think I've lost my appetite,” I mutter reluctantly.

-You need to eat, Carina,” she scolds.

She takes my hand and we head back downstairs. Back in the incredibly large living room, I feel very uneasy. I'm standing on the edge of a cliff and I have to decide whether or not I want to jump off.

-I'm fully aware that I'm leading you down a dark path, Carina, and that's why I really want you to think carefully. I'm sure you have things to ask me,” she says, letting go of my hand and walking sauntering into the kitchen.

“I have things to ask her.” But where do I start?

-You signed the NDA, so you can ask whatever you want and I’ll answer.” I stand by the kitchen counter and watch as Maya opens the refrigerator and pulls out a cheese plate with two huge bunches of white and red grapes. She sets the plate on the counter and begins slicing a baguette.

-Sit,” she says, gesturing to a stool by the counter. I obey her command. If I’m going to accept it, I’ll have to get used to it. I realize she’s been overbearing ever since I met her.

-You talked about paperwork.”

-Yes.”

-What do you mean?”

-Well, besides the NDA, a contract that spells out what we will and won’t do. I need to know your boundaries, and you need to know mine. It’s a consensus, Carina.”

-What if I don’t want to?

-Perfect,' she answers prudently.

-But won't we have the slightest relationship?' I ask her.

-No.'

-Why?'

-It's the only relationship I'm interested in.'

-Why?'

She shrugs. - I'm like this.'

-And how did you get like this?

-Do you like cheese? Mrs. Jones, my housekeeper, left cheese for dinner.' She takes two large white plates out of a cupboard and places one in front of me.

'And now we're talking about cheese... Damn...'

-What rules do I have to follow?'

-I have them in writing. We'll look at them after dinner.'

'Dinner... How am I going to eat now?'

-I'm really not hungry,' I whisper.

-You're going to eat,' she simply answers.

The dominant Maya. Now everything is clear.

-Would you like another glass of wine?'

-Yes, please.' She pours me another glass and sits down next to me. I take a quick sip.

-It’ll do you good to eat, Carina.” I pick up a small bunch of grapes.

-I can handle this.” She narrows her eyes.

-Have you been doing this long?” I ask.

-Yes.”

-Is it easy to find women who will accept it?”

She raises an eyebrow at me. - You’d be surprised,” she answers coolly.

-Then why me?

I really don’t get it.

-Carina, I’ve said it before. You have something. I can’t stay away from you.”

She smiles wryly. “I’m like a moth drawn to the light.” Her voice thickens. - I want you like crazy, especially now, when you bite your lip again.” She takes a deep breath and swallows. My stomach turns.

She wants me… in a weird way, it's true, but this beautiful, strange, kinky woman wants me.

I'm the moth and she's the light, and I'm going to burn. I know it.

-Eat!”

-No. I haven't signed anything yet, so I think I'll just do what I decide for a while longer, if that's okay with you.”

Her eyes soften, and her lips curl into a smile. – You rules, Miss DeLuca.”

-How many women?” I ask abruptly, but I'm really curious.

-Fifteen.

Wow, fewer than I thought.”

-For extended periods of time?”

-Some have.”

-Have you ever hurt anyone?”

-Yes.”

“Damn it!”

-Badly?”

-No.”

-Will you hurt me?”

-What do you mean?”

-If you’re going to hurt me physically.”

-I will punish you when I have to, and it will hurt.”

“I think I’m getting dizzy.” I take another sip of wine. The alcohol will give me courage.

-Have you ever been hit?” I ask.

-Yes.”

Wow, I’m surprised. Before I can ask her about this latest revelation, she interrupts my train of thought.

-Let’s go talk in my study. I want to show you something.”

I’m having a hard time processing all of this. I’ve been so naive I thought I’d spend a night of unbridled passion in this woman’s bed, and here we are, negotiating some strange arrangement. I follow her to her study, a large room with another floor-to-ceiling window that opens onto the balcony. She sits at the table, gestures for me to sit in a leather chair across from her, and hands me a piece of paper.

-These are the rules. We can change them. They're part of the contract, which I'll also give you. Read them and we'll discuss them."

RULES

Obedience: The Submissive will immediately obey all of the Mistress's instructions, without hesitation, without reservation, and expeditiously. The Submissive will accept any sexual activity that the Mistress deems appropriate and pleasurable, except for activities covered by the uncrossable boundaries (Appendix 2). She will do so enthusiastically and without hesitation.

Sleep: The Submissive will ensure that she sleeps at least seven hours daily when she is not with her Mistress.

Food: To maintain her health and well-being, the Submissive will frequently eat the foods listed in Appendix 4. The Submissive will not eat between meals, except for fruit.

Clothing: During the term of the contract, the Submissive will only wear clothing that the Mistress has approved. The Mistress will provide the Submissive with a clothing budget, which the Submissive must use. The Mistress will accompany the Submissive to purchase clothing when necessary. If the Mistress so requests, while the contract is in force, the Submissive will wear the adornments required by the Mistress.
Mistress, in her presence or at any other time the Mistress deems appropriate.

Exercise: The Mistress will provide the Submissive with personal training four times a week, in one-hour sessions, at times agreed upon by the personal trainer and the Submissive. The personal trainer will inform the Mistress of the Submissive's progress.

Personal Hygiene and Beauty: The Submissive will be clean and shaved at all times. The Submissive will visit a beauty salon chosen by the Mistress at her discretion and undergo any treatment the Mistress deems appropriate.

Personal Safety: The Submissive will not drink excessively, smoke, take psychotropic substances, or take unnecessary risks.

Personal Qualities: The submissive will only have sexual relations with the Mistress. The submissive will conduct herself at all times with respect and humility. She must understand that her behavior directly influences that of the Mistress. She will be responsible for any misdeeds, wickedness, and misconduct she commits when the Mistress is not present. Failure to comply with any of the above rules will be immediately punished, and the Mistress will determine the nature of the punishment.

Oh my God.

-Impassable limits?” I ask.

-Yes. What you won’t do and what I won’t do. We have to spell that out in our agreement.” –

-I’m not sure I’ll accept money for clothes. It doesn’t seem right.” I shift uncomfortably.

The word “whore” echoes in my head.

-I want to spend money on you. Let me buy you clothes. Maybe I need you to accompany me to some event, and I want you to be well-dressed. I’m sure with your salary, when you find a job, you won’t be able to afford the clothes I’d like you to wear.”

-Won’t I have to wear it when I’m not with you?”

-No.”

-Okay. Just imagine it will be like a uniform. I don’t want to exercise four times a week.”

-Carina, I need you to be agile, strong, and resilient. Trust me. You have to exercise.”

-But definitely not four times a week. How about three?

-I want to make it four.

-I thought this was a negotiation.

She purses her lips.

-Okay, Miss DeLuca, you're right again. How about one hour three days a week, and a half hour another day?

-Three days, three hours. I get the impression you'll make sure I’m doing exercise when I’m here.

She smiles wickedly, her eyes twinkling, relieved.

-Yes, I will. Okay. Are you sure you don’t want to intern at my company? You’re a good negotiator.”

-No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I look at the sheet of paper with her rules. Wax! Wax what? Everything? Phew!

-Let’s move on to the limits. These are mine,” she says, handing me another sheet of paper.

INFRINGABLE LIMITS
Acts involving fire.
Acts involving urine.
Acts involving needles, knives, piercings and blood.
Acts involving gynaecological medical instruments.
Acts that leave permanent marks on the skin.
Acts relating to breathing control.
Activity involving direct contact with electric current (both alternating and direct), fire or flames on the body.

Phew. She has to write them down! Of course… all these boundaries seem sensible and necessary, really… Surely any sane person wouldn’t want to get involved in this kind of thing. But my stomach is in knots.

-Do you want to add anything?” she asks gently.

Shit. I have no idea. I’m completely perplexed. She looks at me and wrinkles her forehead—she looks cute when she does that.

-Is there anything you don’t want to do?”

-I don’t know.”

-What do you mean, ‘don’t know?’”

I shift uncomfortably and bite my lip.

-I’ve never done things like this.”

-So, has there been anything you didn’t enjoy doing during sex?”

For the first time in what seems like ages, I blush.

-You can tell me, Carina. If we're not honest, this is not going to work.

I shift uncomfortably again, staring at my knobby fingers.

-Tell me," she says.

Sweet Lord, she is frustrating – Maya thinks

-Well... I've never had sex t with anyone, so I don't know," I say quietly. I look up at her, her mouth hanging open, frozen, and pale, very pale.

-Never?" she whispers. I nod.

-Are you a virgin?"

I nod, blushing again. She closes her eyes and seems to be counting to ten. When she opens them, she's looking at me angrily.

-Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" she snarls.

Maya paces back and forth in her studio, raking her hands through her hair. Both hands… which means she's doubly angry. Her usual self-control seems to have cracked.

-I don't understand why you didn't tell me,” she scolds me.

-It didn't come up. I don't usually go around talking about my sex life. Besides… we barely know each other.”

I stare down at my hands. Why do I feel guilty? Why is she so angry? I look at her.

-Well, you know a lot more about me now,” she snaps. Her full lips press together. - I knew you weren't very experienced, but… virgin!” She says it like it's an insult. - Shit, Carina, I just showed you…” she moans.

-God forgive me. Have you ever been kissed, not counting me?

-Sure,” I answer, trying to sound offended. Okay… maybe a couple of times.

-And you haven’t had your head over heels for any boy or girl? I really don’t get it. You’re twenty-one, almost twenty-two. You’re pretty and beautiful.”

She runs her hand through her hair again. Pretty and beautiful. I blush with joy. Maya Bishop thinks I’m pretty and beautiful. I intertwine my fingers and stare at them, trying to hide my stupid smile. My dormant subconscious rears its head. Where was it when I needed it?

-And you’re really talking about what I want to do when you’re inexperienced?” She draws her eyebrows together.

-Why have you avoided sex? Please tell me.”

I shrug. - No one has… well… No one has ever made me feel this way, only you.

And it turns out you’re some kind of control freak.”

-Why are you so mad at me?” I whisper.”

-I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. I had assumed…” She sighs, looks at me carefully, and shakes her head.

-Do you want to leave?” she asks sweetly.

Dont’ leave – said Maya in her mind

-Not unless you want me to leave,” I murmur.

-No, please…

She frowns, glancing at her clock. - It’s late.” she looks up at me again and I don’t understand that look.

Maya looked at her while she thought, “The statement surprises me. I want to fuck her, and spank her, and watch her perfect skin turn pink beneath my hands. That's out of the question now, isn't it? Maybe not fucking... maybe I could. The thought is a revelation. I can take her to bed. Take her. It would be a new experience for both of us. Would she want it? I'd wondered before if I was going to make love to her. I could try, without tying her up. But she could touch me. Fuck. I glance down at my watch and notice the time. It's late. When I look back up at her, the sight of her playing with her bottom lip turns me on. I still want her, despite her innocence. Could I take her to bed? Would she want to, knowing what she knows about me now? Hell, I have no idea. Should I ask her? But she's turning me on, biting her lip again.”

-You’re biting your lip,” she says, her voice husky, her eyes thoughtful.

-Sorry.”

-Don’t apologize. It’s just that I want to bite it too…hard.”

My mouth falls open… How can she say these things to me and pretend it doesn’t affect me?

-Come on,” she murmurs.

-What?”

-We’re going to fix this right now.”

-What do you mean?

-Your situation, Carina. I'm going to make love to you, now.

Oh. I feel the ground move. I'm a situation. I hold my breath.

-If you want, sure. I don't want to push my luck.

-I thought you didn't make love. I thought you only fucked hard.

I swallow. My mouth has suddenly gone dry. She gives me a wicked smile that runs down my body to…

-I can make an exception, or maybe a combination of the two. We'll see. I really want to make love to you. Come to bed with me, please. I want our arrangement to work, but you have to have an idea of what you're getting into. We can start your training tonight… with the basics.It doesn't mean it comes with flowers and hearts. It's a means to an end, but I want that end, and I hope you want it too," she says, her gaze intense.

I blush... Oh my... My wishes are coming true.

"Bishop! Pull yourself together!" Her cheeks flush. "Come on, Carina, yes or no. I'm dying here…"

-But I haven't done everything on your list of rules," I say, my voice choked and uncertain.

-Forget the rules. Forget all those details for tonight. I want you. I've wanted you since you fell in my office, and I know you want me too. You wouldn't be here chatting peacefully about punishments and uncrossable limits if you didn't want me. Carina, please stay with me tonight."

She reaches out her hand, her eyes bright, burning... excited, and I take it. She pulls me into her arms. The movement takes me by surprise, and I suddenly feel her whole body pressed against mine. She runs her fingers down the back of my neck, wraps my ponytail around my wrist, and gently tugs, forcing me to lift my face. She's looking at me.

-You're such a brave girl," she whispers. - I'm fascinated." Her words are like an incendiary device. My blood is burning. She leans down, kisses me gently, and sucks on my bottom lip.

-I want to bite this lip," she murmurs, still holding my mouth. She tugs gently at it with her teeth. I moan, and she smiles.

-Please, Carina, let me make love to you."

-Yes," I whisper.

That's what I'm here to do. I see her triumphant smile and she takes my hand.

Her bedroom is large. The illuminated Seattle skyline can be seen through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The walls are white, the fixtures pale purple. The enormous bed is ultramodern, made of heavy gray wood, with four posters but no canopy. On the wall above the headboard is a stunning seascape. I'm shaking like a leaf. This is it. Finally, after so long, I'm going to do it, and with Maya Bishop, no less. I breathe raggedly and can't take my eyes off her. She takes off her watch and places it on a dresser that matches the bed. Then she takes off her jacket and places it on a chair. She's wearing a white silk shirt and tight jeans that show off her spectacular ass. Oh my! She's sexy as hell. Her blonde hair is loose and neatly combed... Her blue eyes are bold and bright. She takes off her Converse and bends over to take off her socks too. Maya Bishop's feet are just perfect... Wow... What is it about bare feet? She turns and looks at me with a sweet expression.

-Do you want me to close the blinds?

-I don't mind," I whisper.

-I thought you didn't allow anyone to sleep in your bed."

-Who said we were going to sleep?" she murmurs.

Maya’s mind was on fire as she saw her “I stalk her like she’s my prey. Oh, beautiful, I want to bury myself inside you. Her breathing is quick and shallow. Her cheeks are pink… she’s cautious, but she’s aroused. She's at my mercy, and knowing that makes me feel powerful. She has no idea what I'm going to do to her.”

-Oh. Oh my." She approaches me slowly.

She's so confident, so sexy, and her eyes are shining. My heart races and my blood pumps throughout my body. Desire, a hot, intense desire, fills my belly. She stops in front of me and looks into my eyes. Oh, she's so sexy…

-You know I was born different, right?

- Yes.

- You don't have a problem with that?

- What do you mean?

- That I have a dick?

- I don't care, I see YOU, Maya. I want you

Maya closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and thought, “Carina has no idea that her words have touched my soul deeply.”

-Okay, Let's take off your jacket, If it’s okay with you,” she says softly. She grabs the lapels and very gently slides my jacket off my shoulders and places it on the chair.

-Do you have any idea how much I want you, Carina?” she whispers. My breath catches in my throat. I can’t tear my eyes away from her. She lifts a hand and gently runs her fingers down my cheek to my chin.

-Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?” she adds, caressing my chin.

The muscles in my deepest, darkest part tense with infinite pleasure. The pain is so sweet and so sharp that I want to close my eyes, but her, staring hotly into mine, hypnotize me. She leans down and kisses me. Her full, sweet lips slowly move over mine. She begins to unbutton my blouse, lightly kissing my jaw, my chin, and the corners of my mouth. He slowly removes it and lets it fall to the floor. She pulls back slightly and watches me. Luckily, I'm wearing my sky-blue lace bra, which looks fantastic on me.

-Carina," she says - You have beautiful skin, perfect. I want to kiss it every inch."

I blush. Oh my God... Why did she say she couldn't make love? I'll do whatever she asks. She grabs my ponytail, undoes it, and gasps as my hair cascades over my shoulders.

-I like brunettes," she murmurs. She slides both hands into my hair and holds my head. Her kiss is demanding, her tongue and lips persuasive. I moan, and my tentative tongue meets hers. She wraps her arms around me, pulls me close, and squeezes me tight, and I feel her perfect breasts against mine. One hand is still in my hair, and the other runs down my spine to my waist and moves further, following the curve of my butt and gently pushing me against her hips. She pushes languidly against my body. I moan again, still holding my lips against hers. I can barely resist the raging sensations—or are they hormones?—ravaging my body. I crave her. I grab her by the arms and feel her thinness, but she's surprisingly strong. Hesitantly, I move my hands up to her face and into her hair, which is very soft. I tug gently, and Maya moans. She guides me slowly toward the bed until I feel her behind my knees. I think she's going to push me, but she doesn't. She lets go and suddenly kneels. She grips my hips with both hands and slides her tongue over my navel. She moves down to one hip, nibbling, and then runs down my stomach to the other hip.

-Ah," I moan. I hadn't expected to see her kneeling in front of me and feel her tongue running over my body. It's arousing. I place my hands in her hair and tug gently, trying to calm my rapid breathing.

She lifts her face, her burning brown eyes staring at me through her long, perfect eyelashes.
Maya's desire grew as her mind raced. She was so turned on by Carina; she had never felt this way before... her thoughts matched her actions. “Fuck, she smells and tastes good, like an orchard in spring, and I want to fill her. Her hands fist my hair once more; this time I don't mind. In fact, I like it. I nibble at her hip, and her grip tightens in my hair. Her eyes are closed, her mouth relaxed, and she's panting. As I reach up and undo the button on her jeans, she opens her eyes, and we study each other. Slowly, I unzip the zipper and move my hands to her ass.”

She reaches up, undoes the button on my jeans, and slowly unzips them. Without taking her eyes off mine, she slowly slides her hands inside my pants, pressing them against my body.She slides them down my butt and moves down my thighs, dragging my jeans with them. I can't stop staring at her. She stops and, without taking her eyes off me for a second, licks her full, arousing lips. She leans forward and runs her nose along the ridge where my thighs meet. I feel her against my genitals.

-You smell so good," she murmurs. She closes her eyes, her expression pure pleasure, and I feel a jolt. She reaches out, pulls back the comforter, and gently pushes me, and I fall onto the bed. Still on my knees, she grabs one of my feet, unlaces my Converse, and pulls them off, along with my sock. I prop myself up on my elbows and sit up to see what she's doing to me. I gasp, dying of desire. She grabs my foot by the heel and runs her thumbnail along the instep. It's almost painful, but I feel the motion projecting onto my groin. I moan. Without taking her eyes off me, she runs her tongue over the instep again, this time with her teeth. Shit. How can I feel that between my legs? I fall back onto the bed, moaning. I hear her chuckle.

-Carina, you’d never believe what I could do to you,” she whispers.

She pulls off my other shoe and sock, then stands up and peels off my jeans. I’m lying on her bed in my panties and bra, and she’s watching me closely.

-You are so beautiful, Carina DeLuca. I’m dying to be inside you.

What a way to talk! She’s such a temptress. It takes my breath away.

-Show me how you pleasure yourself.

-What? - I frown.

-Don’t be shy, Carina. Show me,” she whispers.

I shake my head. - I don’t understand what you mean,” I reply, my voice husky, so thick with desire I barely recognize it.

-How do you cum on your own? I want to see it.

I shake my head. - I’m not cum on my own,” I murmur.

She raises her eyebrows, stunned for a moment, her eyes impenetrable, and she shakes her head as if she can’t believe it.

-Well, we’ll see what we can do,” she says to me in a low, defiant voice, her tone exquisitely sensual and threatening. She unbuttons her jeans and slowly takes them off, never taking her eyes off mine, and I see her ready for me in a pair of black boxers, oh man…she’s perfect. She leans over me, grabs my ankles, quickly parts my legs, and moves between them on the bed. She hovers above me. I writhe with desire.

-Don’t move,” she murmurs. She leans down, kisses the inside of one thigh, and, continuing to kiss me, moves up to my lace panties. Oh… I can’t stay still. How can I not move? I squirm beneath her.

-We’re going to have to work on you learning to stay still, beautiful.” She continues kissing my stomach and slides her tongue into my navel. Her lips move up to my torso. My skin burns. I’m suffocated. For a moment I feel very hot, then cold, and I claw at the sheet I’m lying on. Maya lies down beside me and runs her hand from my hip to my chest, passing by my waist. She studies me, her expression impenetrable, and gently cups my breasts with her hands.

-They fit perfectly in my hand, Carina,” she murmurs. She slides her index finger inside the cup of my bra, slowly pulling it down, exposing my breast, pushed up by the underwire and the fabric. She moves her finger to my other breast and repeats the process.My breasts swell and my nipples harden under his insistent gaze. The bra keeps my breasts lifted.

-Very nice," she sighs.

And my nipples are hardening even further. I can see her hardness visible through her black boxers. She gently sucks on one of my nipples, slides one hand to my other breast, and slowly circles and tugs on it with her thumb. I moan, feeling a sweet sensation trickle down to my groin. I'm so wet. Oh, please, I beg inwardly, gripping the sheet tightly. She closes her lips around my other nipple, and when she licks it, I nearly have a convulsion.

-Let's see if I can make you cum like that," she whispers. And she continues her slow, sensual incursion; she's so sexy. My nipples feel her skillful fingers and lips, igniting my nerve endings to the point where my whole body groans in sweet agony, but she doesn't stop.

-Oh... please," I beg. I throw my head back, my mouth open, and moan. My legs feel numb. Damn, what's happening to me?

-Let go, beautiful," she murmurs. She presses one nipple between her teeth, tugs hard on the other with her thumb and forefinger, and I fall into her hands. My body shakes and shatters. She kisses me deeply, her tongue snatching into my mouth to absorb my screams.

Oh my God! That was fantastic. Now I know why she's so surprised at my reaction. She looks at me with a satisfied smile, though I'm sure it's nothing more than gratitude and admiration for me.

-You're very receptive," she says. - You'll have to learn to control it, and it will be fun teaching you." she kisses me again. My breathing is still ragged as I recover from my orgasm. She slides one hand down to my waist, my hips, and rests it on my private parts...

Ow. She inserts a finger through the lace and slowly begins to trace circles around my sex, then peels off my panties. She closes her eyes for a moment and holds her breath.

-You’re so wet, I'm going to be inside you. You have no idea how much I want you.

How is all that going to fit inside me? I knew is big just by looking her boxers. I knew she’s intersex and I told her that; I’ve read books and articles about it. But Maya? She’s got everything laid out perfectly.

-Don’t worry,” she whispers, looking into my eyes. I think she can read my mind.

-Do you really want to do this?” she asks softly.

-Please,” I beg.

-Lift your knees,” she commands softly, she takes off her boxers and that's when I finally see it, I see her beautiful, long dick... I knew it, I saw her take out a condom, open the package with her teeth, and then put it on her thick, long, perfect dick.

I obey immediately. -Now I'm going to fuck you, Miss DeLuca,” she murmurs. And she pushes her long, perfect dick inside me.

-Ouch!” I cry out. I scream as she pulls it out and pushes it back in.

-You're so tight. Are you okay?”

I nod, rolling my eyes and clinging to her arms. I feel full inside. She stays still so I can get used to the invasive, overwhelming sensation of having her inside me. She keeps pushing her dick inside me, harder and harder. It hurts a little, but I love what she's doing; she's an expert. I moan…As she takes my virginity, I feel a strange sensation deep inside me, like a pinch. She stays still, looking at me with eyes that shine with triumph. She rubs my clit with her thumb and I scream again. She closes her eyes, moans, and pushes into me again. I scream a second time and she stops.

-More?” she whispers wildly.

-Yes,’ I reply. She starts moving again and then stops. I moan. My body accepts it... Oh, I want her to keep going. Suddenly, she sits up. My God! She's a goddess. She leans over, placing her hands on either side of my head so that she's suspended above me. She looks into my eyes, her jaw clenched and her eyes burning. Her mouth is slightly open and she is struggling to breathe. She presses her body against mine and enters me again.

-Oh my God!” she moans. I realize she is still wearing her T-shirt. - I'm going to move, beautiful, but don't touch me,” she whispers. - God, this is so intense.” She moves, but this time she doesn't stop.

I feel her weight on top of me, pinning me down. She pushes her dick back in and keeps moving. I moan. At first, she moves slowly, sliding in and out of me. As I get used to the strange sensation, I start to move my hips toward hers. She speeds up. I moan and she penetrates me harder, faster and faster, mercilessly, at a relentless pace, and I follow the rhythm of her thrusts.

-I want to possess you, your body and soul. I want you to clench around me.- she said. - See how well we fit together, Carina?
I moan and she kisses me roughly and pulls on my lower lip again with her teeth. She pulls back a little and I feel something growing inside me, just like before. She tenses up as she penetrates me again and again. My body trembles, I arch my back. I'm bathed in sweat. I didn't know it would be like this... I didn't know it could be so pleasant. My thoughts scatter... There's nothing but sensations... Only her... Only me... Oh, please... My body tenses up.

-Cum for me, Carina,” she whispers breathlessly. – Oh, Maya! - And I let myself go as soon as she says it, reaching climax and breaking under her body. And when she cums too, she screams my name, gives one last thrust, and then goes still. I keep panting, trying to slow my breathing and heart rate, my thoughts spiraling into chaos. Wow... that was incredible. I open my eyes.
Maya has rested her forehead against mine. Her eyes are closed, and her breathing is uneven.

When was the last time I came like that? Never... That's what Maya thought.

She blinks, opens, and gives me a cloudy, yet sweet, look. She pulls her dick out and she takes off the condom and throws it in the trash can.

-Oooh.” It’s a strange sensation, and it makes me shudder. She leans down, kisses me gently on the forehead, and very slowly, begins to withdraw from me.

-Did I hurt you?” Maya asks, lying down beside me, propped up on one elbow. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. And I can’t help but grin.

-Are you really asking if you hurt me?”

-Don’t be so ironic,” she says with a mocking smile. - Seriously, are you okay?” Her eyes are intense, discerning, even demanding. I lie down beside her, my limbs feeling limp, my bones feeling like rubber, but I’m relaxed, so relaxed. I smile at her. I can’t stop smiling.

Now I understand what all the fuss is about. Two orgasms… your whole being completely out of control, like a washing machine spinning. Wow. I had no idea what my body was capable of, that it could tense so tightly and release so violently, so gratifyingly. The pleasure was indescribable.

-You’re biting your lip, and you haven’t answered me.” She frowns; she looks cute when she does that. I smile mischievously at her. She’s stunning with her tousled hair, her smoldering blue eyes narrowed, and her expression serious and impenetrable.

-I’d like to do this again,” I whisper. For a moment, I think I see a fleeting look of relief on her face. Then her expression quickly changes, and she looks at me with hooded eyes.

-Right now, Miss DeLuca?” she murmurs coolly. She leans over me and kisses me gently on the corner of my mouth. - Aren’t you a little demanding? Turn around.” I blink a few times, but finally turn away. She unclasps my bra and slides her hand from my back to my butt. - You have really beautiful skin,” she murmurs. She slides one leg between mine and half-lies on my back. I feel the pressure of her shirt buttons and her breasts as she pushes my hair out of my face and kisses my shoulder.

-Why didn’t you take your shirt off?” I ask. She freezes. Then she takes off her shirt and bra and lies back on top of me. I feel her breasts and her warm skin against mine. Mmm… She’s so beautiful.

- So you want me to fuck you again…” she whispers in my ear.

She starts kissing me very softly around my ear and on my neck. She lifts my knees and my breath catches in my throat. What is she doing now? She moves between my legs, presses herself against my back, and runs her hand up my thigh to my butt.

-I’m going to fuck you from behind, Carina,” she murmurs. With her other hand, she grabs the hair at the nape of my neck and pulls gently to position me. I can’t move my head. I’m pinned beneath her, helpless.

-You’re mine,” she whispers. - Only mine. Don’t forget that.” Her voice is intoxicating, her words seductive.
She slides her fingers in and gently caresses my clit, tracing very slow circles. I feel her breath on my face as she slowly pinches my jaw.

-You smell wonderful.” She nuzzles me behind my ear with her nose. She rubs her hands against my body again and again. Reflexively, I begin to trace circles with my hips, in time with her hand, and a maddening pleasure courses through my veins like adrenaline.

-Don’t move,” she orders me in a low, yet imperious voice. She slowly caresses my buttocks again and then takes another condom, puts it on, positions her dick, and penetrates me again, from behind. The sensation is painfully pleasurable.…caressing the walls of my vagina. The effect is mind-blowing. All my energy is concentrated in that small part of my body. I moan.

-Do you like it?” she asks softly, running her teeth over my ear. And she begins to move slowly, in, out, in, out… I close my eyes and try to control my breathing, try to absorb the messy, chaotic sensations of her dick in me as fire courses through my body. I moan again.

-You’re so wet and so fast. So responsive. Oh, Carina, I like it, I like it so much,” she whispers.

I want to move my legs, but I can’t. She’s holding me like a prisoner, keeping a steady, slow, torturous rhythm. It’s absolutely wonderful. I moan again, and suddenly she moves, she puts her thumb on my clit and rubs it.

-Open your mouth,” she asks. And she slides her thumb into my mouth. I blink frantically.

-See how you taste,” she whispers into my ear. - Suck me, beautiful.” She presses her thumb against my tongue, and I close my mouth around her finger and suck wildly. I taste the salty flavor of her thumb and the slightly metallic acidity of blood. Oh my God. This isn't right, but it's so damn erotic.

-I want you to give me oral sex, Carina, and you'll be soon,” she says, her voice husky, wild, and her breath coming in short gasps. God, how I want this woman! I moan and bite her. She lets out a strangled cry and pulls my hair harder, hurting, so I let go of her finger.

-My naughty girl,” she whispers. - Hold still, don't move,” she orders, letting go of my hair. I gasp, feeling heat coursing through my veins. She grabs my hair again, holding my head still. I can't move. She's seductively trapped me, ready to do it again.

-We're going to take it very slowly this time, Carina,” she says. And she starts moving again, in and out, in and out, with a deliciously slow and killer rhythm. I moan loudly. I moan again, and at a very slow pace, she circles her thumb on my clit. She stops for a moment, then moves again. She repeats the motion over and over, her dick against my ass. She drives me wild. Her teasing, deliberately slow thrusts and the intermittent feeling of fullness are irresistible.

-I love having you like this,” she moans. And my insides begin to tremble. And I seek more contact.

-No, beautiful, not yet,” she murmurs. When I stop trembling, the wonderful process begins again.

-Please,” I beg her. I don’t think I can hold out much longer. My tense body is desperate for release.

-I want you aching, beautiful,” she murmurs. And she continues her sweet, slow, circular torture. - I want you to remember, every time you move tomorrow, that I was inside you. Only me. You’re mine.”

I moan - Maya, please,” I whisper.

-What do you want, Carina?, tell me.

I moan again.

-Tell me,” she murmurs.

- More of you, please.” I start to shake inside, and Maya speeds up her thrusts.

-You’re… so… sweet,” she murmurs in time with her thrusts.

-I… want… you… so… much…” I moan.

-You’re… mine, just mine Carina. Cum for me, beautiful” she roars. Her words are my undoing, sending me tumbling over the edge. I feel my body convulse, and I come, screaming a babbled version of her name into the mattress.

Maya thrusts six more times her dick until she stops, letting go, spilling her wetness all over me. She collapses against me, her face buried in my hair.

-Fuck, Carina,” she gasps. She rolls onto her side of the bed. I draw my knees up to my chest, completely exhausted, and immediately fall into a deep sleep.

Maya’s POV

I wake up with a start and a penetrating sense of guilt, as if I had committed a terrible sin.

Is it because I fucked Carina DeLuca? Virgin?

I could wake her up.

Fuck her again.

There are definitely some advantages to having her in my bed.

Bishop. Stop this nonsense.

Fucking her amazing, Very pleasant.

More like unbelievable.

It was just sex, damn it.

I close my eyes in what will likely be a futile attempt at sleep. But the room is too full of Carina: her scent, the sound of her soft breathing, and the memory of my first vanilla fuck. Visions of her head thrown back in passion, of her screaming a barely recognizable version of my name, and her unbridled enthusiasm for losing her virginity overwhelm me.

Miss DeLuca is a carnal creature.

It will be a joy to train her.

Shit.

I can't sleep, even though tonight it's not nightmares keeping me awake, it's little Miss DeLuca. Getting out of bed, I gather my clothes from the floor and throw them on the dresser. From the dresser, I pull a pair of shorts and drag them out. With a lingering gaze on the tempting woman in my bed, I venture into the kitchen. I'm thirsty.

Once I've had my glass of water, I do what I always do when I can't sleep: I check my email in my study. Taylor is back and asking if he can bring Charlie Tango. Stephan must be asleep upstairs. I emailed him back with a "yes," although at this time of night, it's a given.

Back in the living room, I sit at my piano. This is my solace, where I can lose myself for hours. I've been able to play well since I was nine, but it wasn't until I had my own piano, my own place, that it truly became my passion. When I want to forget everything, this is what I do. And, right now, I don't want to think about having proposed to a virgin, having fucked her, or revealing my lifestyle to someone inexperienced. With my hands on the keys, I begin to play and lose myself in the solitude of Bach.

A movement distracts me from the music, and when I look up, Carina is standing next to the piano. Wrapped in a comforter, her hair wild and curling down her back, her eyes luminous, she looks wonderful.

Carina’s POV

When I wake up, it's still not dawn. I have no idea how long I've slept. I stretch my legs under the duvet and feel sore, exquisitely sore. I don't see Maya anywhere. I sit up in bed and gaze at the city in front of me. There are fewer lights on the skyscrapers, and dawn is already creeping toward the east. I hear music, lilting piano notes. A sweet, sad lament. Bach, I think, but I'm not sure. I throw the duvet aside and walk quietly into the hallway that leads to the great hall.
Maya is sitting at the piano, completely absorbed in the melody she is playing. Her expression is sad and forlorn, like the music. She plays beautifully. I lean against the wall and listen to her, entranced. She is an extraordinary musician. She's wearing a white bra. I see her perfect, round breasts, her body bathed in the warm light of a solitary lamp next to the piano. Since the rest of the room is dark, she seems isolated in her small pool of light, untouchable... alone in a bubble. I advance silently toward her, drawn by the sublime, melancholic music.
Maya raises her fathomless blue eyes with an unreadable expression.

-Sorry," I whisper. - I didn't mean to bother you."

She frowns slightly. - Obviously I'm the one who should be apologizing," she murmurs. She stops playing and rests her hands on her legs. Suddenly I realize she's wearing tiny pajama shorts. She runs her fingers through her long hair and stands up. Those shorts look so sexy on her… Oh my God. My mouth goes dry as she saunters around the piano and approaches me. She's slim and narrow-hipped, and her abs tense when she walks. She's sexy and beautiful, she's simply stunning…

-You should be in bed," she scolds me.

-A very beautiful piece. Bach?"

The transcription is by Bach, but it's originally an oboe concerto by Alessandro Marcello.

-Beautiful, although very sad, a very melancholic melody.

She sketches a half smile.

-Go to bed," she orders. - You'll be exhausted by morning."

-I woke up and you weren't there."

-I'm having trouble sleeping. I'm not used to sleeping with anyone," she murmurs.

I can't tell what her mood is. She seems a little down, but it's hard to tell in the dark. Maybe it's the mood of the song she's playing. She puts her arm around me and gently leads me into the bedroom.

-When did you start playing? You play very well."

-When I was six."

Maya at six… I picture a beautiful little girl with blond hair and blue eyes, and I drool… A little girl who likes incredibly sad music.

-How are you feeling?” she asks, back in the room. She turns on a small lamp.

-I’m fine.”

We both look at the bed at the same time. The sheets are stained with blood, proof of my lost virginity. I blush, uncomfortably, and pull the comforter over me.

-Well, Mrs. Jones will have something to think about,” Maya grumbles from in front of me.

- It's just your body, babe - She places her hand under my chin, tilts my face up, and stares. Her eyes are intense. I realize this is the first time I’ve seen her breasts. Instinctively, she reaches out. I want to run my fingers over her perfect breasts, but she immediately takes a step back.

-Get in bed,” she says sharply. And then she softens her tone a little: - I’ll sleep with you.” I withdraw my hand and frown slightly. I don’t think I’ve touched her torso even once. She opens a drawer, pulls out a T-shirt, and quickly puts it on.

-Bed,” she orders again. I jump into bed, trying not to think about the blood. She lies down too, her arms wrapping around me from behind so I can’t see her face. She kisses my hair gently and inhales deeply.

- Sleep, sweet and beautiful Carina,” she murmurs. I close my eyes, but I can’t help feeling a certain melancholy, I don’t know if it’s because of the music or her behavior. Maya Bishop has a sad side.

Notes:

Hello, I owed you this chapter.
From now on I will not be posting entire chapters from Maya's POV, I have decided to take your suggestions and only include a couple of things from Maya's thoughts because the book is basically narrated from Carina's perspective in this case. I hope you like it. I've tried to adapt it as best I can because the one I took was adapted differently, so I hope you like it. I always read your comments, and thank you very much for your support.

Chapter 14: NOT A CHAPTER

Chapter Text

Hello, I hope everyone is doing well... I know you want a new chapter, but honestly, I've been going through some things and haven't been able to update. I hope you understand and wait.

Thank you, x

Chapter 15 Summary:

Okay guys, I'm back!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Carina’s POV

The light flooding the room pulls me out of my deep sleep. I stretch and open my eyes. It's a beautiful morning with Seattle at my feet. Wow, what a view.

Maya Bishop is fast asleep next to me. I'm surprised she's still in bed. As she's facing me, I have the chance to examine her properly for the first time. Her beautiful face looks younger, more relaxed. Her pink lips are slightly parted, and her hair is clean and shiny, long and tousled. How can she be so beautiful and still be legal? I remember her room upstairs... Maybe she's not so legal after all. I have a lot to think about. I'm tempted to reach out and touch her, but she looks so beautiful asleep. I don't have to worry about what I say, what she says, her plans, especially her plans for me. I could spend the day just looking at her, but I have my needs... physiological needs. I slowly get out of bed, put on just my panties, see her white shirt on the floor, and put it on.

I walk towards a door thinking it might be the bathroom, but what I find is a dressing room as big as my bedroom, rows and rows of expensive suits, shirts, dresses, high heels. Why does she need so many clothes? I click my tongue. The truth is that Gabriella's wardrobe is probably just as impressive as this one. Gabriella! Oh, no. I didn't think about her all night. I was supposed to send her a message. Damn. She's going to be mad at me. For a second, I wonder how she's doing with Jack.

I go back to the bedroom, where Maya is still asleep. I open the other door. It's the bathroom, bigger than my bedroom. Why does a single woman need so much space? Two sinks, I note ironically. If she never sleeps with anyone, one of them will never be used. I look at myself in the huge mirror. Do I look different? I feel different. To be honest, I'm a little sore, and my muscles... it's like I've never exercised in my life. You've never exercised in your life, says my subconscious, which has woken up and is looking at me, pursing its lips and tapping its foot on the floor. You just slept with her. You gave your virginity to a woman who doesn't love you, who has very strange plans for you, who wants to turn you into some kind of perverted sex slave. ARE YOU CRAZY? she yells at me. I keep looking at myself in the mirror and shudder. I have to take all this in. Honestly, I've fallen for a gorgeous woman who's loaded and has a red room of pain waiting for me. I shudder. I'm bewildered and confused. My hair is a mess, as usual. I try to tidy up the chaos with my fingers, but I can't and give up... Maybe I have a hair clip in my bag.

I'm starving. I go back to the bedroom. Sleeping Beauty is still asleep, so I leave her and go to the kitchen.

Oh, no... Gabriella. I left my purse in Maya's studio. I go to get it and take out my cell phone. Three messages.

*Everything OK Carina*

*Where are you Carina*

*Damn it Carina*

I call Gabriella, but she doesn't answer, so I leave a message on her answering machine telling her that I'm alive and that the Blair witch hasn't finished me off, well, at least not in the sense that might concern her... or maybe it has. I'm very confused. I have to try to clear my head and analyze my feelings toward Maya Bishop. It's impossible. I shake my head in defeat. I need to be alone, far away from here, to think.

I find two hair clips in my bag and quickly braid my hair. Yes! Maybe the more childlike I look, the safer I'll be from Blair Witch. I take my iPod out of my bag and put on my headphones. There's nothing like music for cooking. I put the iPod in Maya's shirt pocket, turn up the volume, and start dancing.

God, I'm hungry.

The kitchen intimidates me a little. It's sleek and modern, with handle-less cabinets. It takes me a few seconds to figure out that I have to press on the doors to open them. Maybe I should make Maya breakfast. The other day she had an omelet... Well, yesterday, at the Heathman. It's amazing how much has happened since yesterday. I open the refrigerator, see that there are lots of eggs, and decide I want pancakes and bacon. I start making the batter, dancing around the kitchen.

It's good to have something to do, because that gives you some time to think, but without delving too deeply. The music ringing in my ears also helps me keep deep thoughts at bay. I came to spend the night in Maya Bishop's bed, and I've succeeded, even though she doesn't allow anyone to sleep in her bed. I smile. Mission accomplished. Great. I smile and begin to drift off, remembering the night. Her words, her body, the way she makes love...

I close my eyes, my body vibrates as I remember her, and the muscles in my stomach contract. My subconscious gives me a dirty look, her way of fucking, not making love, screams at me like a harpy. I ignore it, but deep down I know it's right. I shake my head to focus on what I'm doing.

The kitchen is very sophisticated. I'm confident I'll figure out how it works. I need a place to put the pancakes so they don't get cold. I start with the bacon. Amy sings a song in my ear about misfits, a song that has always meant a lot to me because I am a misfit. I've never fit in anywhere, and now... I have to consider an indecent proposal from the queen of misfits herself. Why is Maya like that? Is it nature or nurture? I've never met anyone like her.

I put the bacon on the grill and, while it cooks, I beat the eggs. I turn around and see Maya sitting on a stool, her elbows on the bar and her face resting on her hands. She's wearing the T-shirt she slept in. Her hair is tied back with a strand left loose, which looks really good on her. She seems amused and surprised at the same time. I freeze and blush. Then I calm down and take off my headphones. My knees tremble just looking at her.

“Good morning, Miss DeLuca. You're very active this morning,” she says coldly.

“I... I slept well,” I say, stammering.

She tries to hide her smile.

“I can't imagine why.” She pauses for a moment and frowns. “Me too, when I went back to bed.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Very,” she replies with an intense look.

I don't think she's referring to food.

“Pancakes, bacon, and eggs?”

“Sounds great.”

“I don't know where the placemats are.”

I shrug and try desperately not to look nervous.

“I'll take care of it. You cook. Do you want me to put on some music so you can keep dancing?”

I look at my fingers, perfectly aware that I'm blushing.

“Don't be shy around me. It's very entertaining,” he says teasingly.

I purse my lips. Entertaining, huh? My subconscious bursts out laughing. I turn and continue beating the eggs, probably harder than necessary. In an instant, she's beside me, tugging on one of my braids.

“I love it,” she whispers.

Mmm, Maya...

“How do you want your eggs?” I ask her abruptly.

“Scrambled,” she replies.

I continue what I was doing, trying to hide my smile. It's hard not to go crazy over her, especially when she's being so playful, which is not often.

She opens a drawer, takes out two black placemats, and places them on the counter. I pour the scrambled eggs into a frying pan, take the bacon off the grill, flip it over, and put it back on.

When I turn around, there's orange juice on the counter, and Maya is making coffee.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please. If you have any.”

I grab a couple of plates and leave them on the hotplate to keep them warm. Maya opens a cupboard and takes out a box of Twinings English Breakfast tea.

I purse my lips.

“The end was inevitable, wasn't it?”

“Do you think so? I'm not so sure we've reached the end yet, Miss DeLuca,” she murmurs.

What does she mean? Is she talking about our negotiation? Well... I mean... our relationship... or whatever. She's as critical as ever. I serve breakfast on the warm plates, which I leave on the placemats. I open the refrigerator and take out some maple syrup.

I look at Maya, who is waiting for me to sit down.

“Miss DeLuca,” she says, pointing to a stool.

“Miss Bishop.”

I sit down and thank her. As I sit down, I grimace slightly in pain.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” she asks me as she sits down too.

I blush. Why is she asking me such personal questions?

“Well, to be honest, I have nothing to compare it to,” I reply. “Were you trying to offer me your sympathy?” I ask in an overly sweet tone.

I think she's trying to suppress a smile, but I'm not sure.

“No. I was wondering if we should continue with your basic training.”

“Oh.”

I look at her in amazement, hold my breath, and shudder. Oh... I'd love to. I stifle a moan.

“Eat, Carina.”

She's taken away my appetite again... More... more sex... Yes, please.

“By the way, this is delicious,” she says, smiling.

I take a bite of tortilla, but I can barely swallow. Basic training! “I want you to give me oral sex.” Is that part of basic training?

“Stop biting your lip. You're distracting me, and I've just realized you're not wearing anything under my shirt, and that's distracting me even more.”

I dip the tea bag into the teapot Maya has brought me. My head is spinning.

“What kind of basic training did you have in mind?” I ask.

I speak a little too loudly, which betrays my desire to sound natural, as if I don't care too much, and as calm as possible, even though my hormones are wreaking havoc throughout my body.

“Well, since you're in pain, I thought we could focus on oral techniques.”

I choke with tea and I stare at her with my mouth open and my eyes wide. She pats me on the back and brings me orange juice. I have no idea what she's thinking.

“If you want to stay, of course,” she adds.

I look at her, trying to regain my composure. Her expression is impenetrable. It's very frustrating.

“I'd like to stay for the day, if that's okay. I have to work tomorrow.”

“What time do you have to be at work?”

“At nine.”

“I'll take you to work tomorrow at nine.”

I frown. Does she want me to stay another night?

“I have to go home tonight. I need to change my clothes.”

“We can buy you something.”

I don't have money to buy clothes. She raises her hand, grabs my chin, and pulls so that my teeth release my lower lip. I wasn't aware I was biting it.

“What's wrong?” she asks me.

“I have to go home tonight.”

She looks at me very seriously.

“Okay, tonight,” she agrees. “Now finish your breakfast.”

My head and stomach are spinning. I've lost my appetite. I stare at the half of my breakfast that's still on my plate. I don't feel like eating right now.

“Eat, Carina. You didn't have dinner last night.”

“I'm not hungry, really,” I whisper.

She looks at me very seriously.

“I'd really like you to finish your breakfast.”

“What's your problem with food?” I blurt out suddenly.

She frowns.

“I already told you I can't stand throwing food away. Eat,” she says abruptly, with a sombre, hurt expression.

Damn it. What's this all about? I pick up my fork and eat slowly, trying to chew. If she's always going to be so weird about food, I'll have to remember not to fill my plate so much. Her expression softens as I eat my breakfast. I watch her clear her plate. She waits for me to finish and clears mine too.

“You cooked, so I'll clear the table.”

“Very democratic.”

“Yes,” she says, frowning. “It's not my usual style. As soon as I'm done, we'll take a bath.”

“Oh, okay.”

Gee... I'd prefer a shower. The sound of my phone snaps me out of my reverie. It's Gabriella.

“Hello.”

I move away from her and head for the glass doors leading to the balcony.

“Carina, why didn't you text me last night?”

She's angry.

“Sorry. I got caught up in events.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, perfectly.”

“Finally?”

She's trying to get information out of me. I hear the expectant tone in her voice and shake my head.

“Gabriella, I don't want to discuss it on the phone.”

Maya looks up at me.

“Yes... I'm sure.”

How can she be sure? She's bluffing, but I can't talk about it. I signed a damn agreement.

“Gabriella, please.”

“How did it go? Are you okay?”

“I told you I'm perfectly fine.”

“Was she sweet?”

“Gabriella, please!”

I can't hold back my anger.

“Carina, don't hide it from me. I've been waiting for this moment for almost four years.”

“See you tonight.”

And I hang up.

This is going to be difficult to handle. She's very stubborn and wants me to tell her everything in detail, but I can't tell her because I've signed a... what's it called? A confidentiality agreement. She's going to have a fit, and rightly so. I have to think of something. I turn my head and watch Maya moving freely around the kitchen.

“Does the confidentiality agreement cover everything?” I ask hesitantly.

“Why?”

She turns and looks at me as she puts away the tea box. I blush.

“Well, I have some questions, you know... about sex,” I say, looking at my fingers. “And I'd like to discuss them with Gabriella.”

“You can discuss them with me.”

“Maya, with all due respect...”

I am speechless.

"I can't discuss them with you. You would give me your view of sex, which is biased, distorted, and perverted. I want an unbiased opinion, just technical questions. I won't say anything about the red room of pain.”

She raises her eyebrows.

"Red room of pain? It's mostly about pleasure, Carina, believe me. And besides,“ she adds in a harsher tone, ”your roommate is sleeping with my brother. I'd rather you didn't talk to her, to be honest.

"Does your family know about your... preferences?

“No. It's none of their business.” She moves closer to me. “What do you want to know?” she asks.

She slides her fingers gently down my cheek to my chin, which she lifts to look me straight in the eyes. I shudder inside. I can't lie to this woman.

“Nothing specific at the moment,” I whisper.

“Well, we can start by asking you how you enjoyed yourself tonight.”

Curiosity burns in her eyes. She's eager to know. Wow.

“Good,” I murmur.

She smiles slightly.

“Me too,” she says softly. “I've never had vanilla sex before, and it wasn't bad at all. Although maybe that's because it was with you.”

She slides her thumb over my lower lip.

I take a deep breath. Vanilla sex?

“Come on, let's take a shower.”

She leans down and kisses me. My heart skips a beat and desire runs through my body and concentrates... in my deepest part.

The bathtub is white, deep, and oval-shaped, very stylish. Maya leans over and turns on the faucet on the tiled wall. She pours what looks like very expensive bath oil into the water. As the tub fills, foam begins to form, and a sweet, seductive scent of jasmine fills the bathroom. Maya looks at me with impenetrable eyes, takes off her T-shirt and bra, and throws them on the floor.

“Miss DeLuca,” she says, holding out her hand to me.

I'm standing by the door, wide-eyed and wary, my hands wrapped around my body. I approach her, furtively admiring her perfect body. I take her hand and she holds me as I get into the bathtub, still wearing her shirt. I do as she says. I'm going to have to get used to this if I end up accepting her outrageous offer... Only if... The hot water is tempting.

“Turn around and look at me,” she orders me in a low voice.

I do as she asks. She watches me closely.

“I know that lip is delicious, I can attest to that, but can you stop biting it?” she says, clenching her teeth. “When you bite it, I want to fuck you, and you're in pain, aren't you?”

I stop biting my lip because I'm speechless, shocked.

“That's right,” she says. “Do you understand?”

She looks at me. I nod frantically. I had no idea I could affect her so much.

“Okay.”

She comes closer, takes the iPod out of her shirt pocket, and leaves it next to the sink.

“Water and iPods... not a very smart combination,” she murmurs.

She leans over, grabs the white shirt underneath, takes it off, and throws it on the floor along with my panties.

She steps back to look at me. My God, I'm completely naked. I blush and look down at my hands, which are at belly level. I desperately want to disappear into the hot water and foam, but I know she won't want me to.

“Hey,” she calls to me.

I look at her. Her face is tilted to one side.

“Carina, you're very beautiful, all of you. Don't lower your head as if you were ashamed. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and I assure you that it's a pleasure to look at you.”

She holds my chin and lifts my head so that I look at her. Her eyes are sweet and warm, even fiery. She's very close to me. I could reach out and touch her.

“You can sit down now,” she says, interrupting my erratic thoughts.

I bend down and step into the pleasant hot water. Oh... it stings, which I didn't expect, but it smells wonderful. The initial stinging quickly subsides. I lie on my back, close my eyes for a moment, and relax in the soothing warmth. When I open them, she is staring at me.

“Why don't you take a bath with me?” I dare to ask, in a hoarse voice.

“Yes, move forward,” she orders me.

She takes off her boxers and gets into the bathtub behind me. The water rises when she sits down and pulls me so that I lean on her beautiful, round breasts. She places her legs on top of mine, knees bent and ankles at the same height as mine, and spreads my legs with her feet. I'm speechless. She buries her nose in my hair and inhales deeply.

“You smell so good, Carina.”

A shiver runs through my body. I'm naked in a bathtub with Maya Bishop. And she's naked too. If someone had told me that yesterday, when I woke up in the hotel suite, I wouldn't have believed them.

She takes a bottle of gel from the shelf next to the bathtub and squirts some into her hand. She rubs her hands together to create a light layer of foam, places them around my neck, and begins to spread the soap over the back of my neck and shoulders, massaging them vigorously with her long, strong fingers. I moan. I love the feel of her hands.

“Do you like that?”

I can almost hear her smile.

“Mmm.”

She moves down to my arms, then below to my armpits, rubbing me gently. I'm so glad Gabriella insisted I shave. She slides her hands over my breasts, and I take a deep breath when her fingers encircle them and begin to massage them gently, without squeezing. I instinctively arch my body and press my breasts against her hands. My nipples are sensitive, very sensitive, no doubt due to the rough treatment they received last night. She doesn't linger too long on them. She slides her hands down to my belly. My breathing quickens and my heart races. I feel the heat of her dick against my buttocks. It excites me that it's my body that makes her feel this way. Of course... not your head, my subconscious teases me. I push the untimely thought away.

She stops and picks up a washcloth while I pant against her, dying of desire. I rest my hands on her thighs, firm and toned. She puts more gel on the washcloth, leans over, and rubs between my legs. I hold my breath. Her fingers skillfully stimulate me from inside the fabric, wonderful, and my hips begin to move to her rhythm, pressing against her hand. As the sensations take hold of me, I tilt my head back, my eyes almost rolled back and my mouth half open. I moan. The pressure inside me increases, slowly and inexorably... Oh my God.

“Feel it, beautiful,” Maya whispers in my ear, gently grazing my earlobe with her teeth. “Feel it for me.”

Her legs pin mine against the sides of the bathtub, trapping them, giving her free access to my most intimate parts.

“Oh... please,” I whisper.

My body stiffens and I try to stretch my legs. I am this woman's sex slave, and she won't let me move.

“I think you're clean enough now,” she murmurs.

And she stops.

What? No! No! No! My breathing is uneven.

“Why are you stopping?” I ask, panting.

“Because I have other plans for you, Carina.”

What...? Wow... but... I was... That's not fair.

“Turn around. I have to wash myself too,” she murmurs.

Oh! I turn around and am stunned to see her standing up and her dick in front of me. I'm fascinated. I open my mouth.

“First, I want you to get to know the most valuable part of my body, my favorite. I'm very fond of it.”

Her dick is perfect. I look up for a second and see her wicked smile.

She's amused by my stunned expression. I realize I'm staring at her dick. I swallow.

She wants me to touch it. Mmm... okay, go ahead.

I smile at her, take the gel, and squeeze a little onto my hand. I do the same as her: I rub the soap between my hands until it forms a lather. I don't take my eyes off hers. I part my lips to make it easier to breathe... and deliberately bite my lower lip, then run my tongue over it, over the area I just bit. She looks at me with serious, impenetrable eyes, which open as she slides her tongue over her lip. I lean over and caress her dick with one hand, imitating the way she touches me. She closes her eyes for a moment. Wow... she's so delicate. She caresses the base of her dick and she places her hand over mine.

“Like this,” she whispers.

And she moves her hand up and down, holding my fingers tightly, which in turn press against her dick. She closes her eyes again and holds her breath. When she opens them again, her gaze is a scorching blue.

“Very good, beautiful.”

She lets go of my hand, lets me continue on my own, and closes her eyes as I move up and down. She flexes her hips slightly toward my hand, and I reflexively squeeze harder. A hoarse moan escapes from the depths of her throat.

I want you to give me oral sex... Mmm. I remember her putting her thumb in my mouth and asking me to suck it hard. She opens her mouth as her breathing quickens. Her eyes are closed. I lean in, wrap my lips around her dick, and suck hesitantly, sliding my tongue all the way down her long dick.

“Wow... Carina.”

Her eyes open wide and I continue sucking and caressing.

Mmm... it's surprisingly tasty, salty and sweet at the same time.

“God,” she moans.

And she closes her eyes again.

I push my mouth all the way in and she moans again. Ha! The goddess inside me is delighted. I can do this. I can fuck her with my mouth. I twist my tongue around her dick again, and she gasps and lifts her hips. She has opened her eyes, which are shooting fire. She arches her back again, clenching her teeth. I lean on her thighs and push my mouth all the way down. I feel her legs tense in my hands.

She grabs my braids and starts moving.

“Oh... beautiful... that's fantastic,” she murmurs.

I suck harder and run my tongue over the tip of her impressive dick. I press it with my mouth, covering my teeth with my lips. She exhales with her mouth half open and moans.

“God, how far can you go?” she whispers.

Mmm... I push my mouth hard and feel all of her inside me. It's like a popsicle that tastes like... Maya Bishop. I stick out my tongue and stroke her dick faster and faster, pushing deeper and deeper and swirling my tongue around. Mmm... I had no idea that giving pleasure could be so exciting, watching her writhe subtly with carnal desire. The goddess inside me dances merengue with a few salsa steps.

“Carina, I'm going to cum in your mouth,” she warns me, panting. “If you don't want me to, stop.”

She pushes her hips again, her eyes wide open, cautious and full of lustful desire... And she wants me. She wants my mouth... Oh my God.

She grabs my hair tightly. I can do it. I move my mouth even harder and suddenly… She reaches her limit. She screams, freezes, and I feel her sweet and salty cum in my mouth. I clean myself with my tongue, looking at her, and quickly swallow all her wetness. Ugh... I don't know if I did the right thing.

But just looking at her is enough to make me not care... I made her lose control in the bathtub. I sit up and watch her with a triumphant smile that lifts the corners of my mouth. She's breathing heavily. She opens her eyes and looks at me.

“God, Carina... that was... really good, really good. I wasn't expecting that.” She frowns. “You know what? You never cease to amaze me.”

I smile and bite my lip deliberately. She looks at me questioningly.

Maya’s POV

Damn.

My breathing is labored. She completely dismantled me... Again!

When I open my eyes, she's beaming with pride.

And she should be. That was hell of a blowjob.

“Aren't you nauseous?” I marvel at her as I catch my breath. “That was amazing”

I praise her for a job well done.

Wait, that was so good, maybe she has some experience after all.

“Have you done this before?” I ask, not sure I want to know.

“No,” she says with obvious pride.

“Good.” I hope my relief isn't too obvious. “So, another first, Miss DeLuca. Well, you get an A in oral techniques. Come on, let's go to bed. I owe you an orgasm.”

I climb out of the tub, a little dizzy, and wrap a towel around my breasts. Grabbing another, I lift her up and help her out of the tub, wrapping it around her so she's trapped. I hold her against me, kissing her, really kissing her. Exploring her mouth with my tongue.

I taste my fluids in her mouth. Grabbing her head, I deepen the kiss.

I want her.

All of her.

Her body and her soul.

I want her to be mine.

Carina’s POV

Another orgasm!

The goddess inside me has stopped dancing and is watching her too, open-mouthed and drooling. Wow. She wraps a towel around herself for minimal coverage and pulls out another larger, softer, white one for me. I get out of the bathtub and take the hand she offers me. She wraps me in the towel, hugs me, and kisses me hard, sticking her tongue in my mouth. I want to stretch out my arms and hug her... touch her... but they're trapped inside thetowel. It doesn't take me long to lose myself in her kiss. She holds my head with her hands, runs her tongue over my mouth, and gives me the feeling that she is expressing her gratitude... perhaps for my first time giving oral sex?

She pulls away a little, with her hands on either side of my face, and looks me in the eyes. She seems lost.

“Say yes,” she whispers fervently.

I frown because I don't understand her.

“To what?”

“To our agreement. To be mine. Please, Carina,” she whispers pleadingly, emphasizing the “please” and my name.

She kisses me passionately again, then pulls away and looks at me, blinking. She takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom. I stagger a little, so I follow her meekly, dazed. She really wants me.

Once in the bedroom, she watches me from beside the bed.

“Do you trust me?” she asks suddenly.

I nod, my eyes wide, and suddenly realize that I do trust her. What is she going to do to me now? An electric shock runs through my body.

“Good girl,” she says, running her thumb over my lower lip.

She goes to the closet and returns with a gray silk tie.

“Put your hands together in front of you,” she orders, removing my towel and throwing it on the floor.

I do as she asks. She wraps the tie around my wrists and ties a tight knot. Her eyes shine with excitement. She pulls on the tie to make sure the knot doesn't move. She must have been a scout to know how to tie these knots. Now what? My pulse is racing and my heart is beating wildly. She runs her fingers through my braids.

“You look so young with these braids,” she murmurs, moving closer to me.

I instinctively step back until I feel the bed behind my knees. She takes off her towel, but I can't take my eyes off her face. Her expression is fiery, full of desire.

“Oh, Carina, what am I going to do with you?” she whispers.

She lays me down on the bed, lies down next to me, and lifts my hands above my head.

“Leave your hands like that. Don't move them. Understood?”

Her eyes burn into mine and her intensity takes my breath away. She's not a woman I'd want to anger.

“Answer me,” she asks in a low voice.

“I won't move my hands,” I reply breathlessly.

“Good girl,” she murmurs.

And she deliberately runs her tongue over her lips very slowly. I'm fascinated by her tongue slowly tracing her full upper lip. She looks me in the eyes, observes me, examines me. She leans in and gives me a chaste, quick kiss on the lips.

“I'm going to kiss your whole body, Miss DeLuca,” she says softly.

She grabs my chin and lifts it, giving her access to my neck. Her lips slide down it, kissing, sucking, and nibbling me. My whole body vibrates with anticipation. The bath has left my skin hypersensitive. Warm blood slowly descends to my belly, between my legs, to my sex. I moan.

I want to touch her. I move my hands, but since I'm tied up, I clumsily touch her hair instead. She stops kissing me, looks up, and shakes her head from side to side, clicking her tongue. She grabs my hands and puts them back above my head.

“If you move your hands, we'll have to start over,” she scolds me softly.

Oh, she likes to tease me.

“I want to touch you,” I say, panting, unable to control myself.

“I know,” she murmurs. “But keep your hands still.”

Oh... it's so frustrating. Her hands slide down my body to my breasts while her lips glide down my neck. I feel her chest against my body. She caresses my neck with the tip of her nose, and then, with her mouth, she begins a slow journey south, following the trail of her hands down my sternum to my breasts. She kisses and nibbles one, then the other, and gently sucks my nipples. Damn it. My hips begin to sway and move on their own, following the rhythm of her mouth, and I desperately try to remember that I have to keep my hands above my head.

“Don't move,” she warns me.

I feel her warm breath on my skin. She reaches my belly button, sticks her tongue in, and grazes my stomach with her teeth. My body arches.

“Mmm. You're so sweet, Miss DeLuca.”

She slides her nose from my belly button to my pubic hair, gently biting me and teasing me with her tongue. Suddenly, she kneels at my feet, grabs my ankles, and spreads my legs apart.

Oh my God. She takes my left foot, bends my knee, and puts my foot in her mouth. Watching my reactions, she kisses all my toes and then gently bites my fingertips. When she reaches my little toe, she bites it harder. I feel a convulsion and moan softly. She slides her tongue along the instep... and I can't look at her anymore. This is too erotic. I'm going to explode. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to absorb and endure all the sensations she's giving me.

She kisses my ankle and continues her journey up my calf to my knee, where she stops. Then she starts with my right foot and repeats the whole seductive and amazing process.

She bites my little toe, and the bite sends a jolt deep into my belly.

“Please,” I moan.

“What's best for you, Miss DeLuca,” she says.

This time she doesn't stop at the knee. She continues up the inside of my thigh, spreading my legs wider. I know what she's going to do, and part of me wants to push her away because I'm dying of embarrassment. She's going to kiss my sex. I know it. But another part of me enjoys waiting for her. She turns to my other knee and moves up my thigh, kissing me, sucking me, licking me, and suddenly she's between my legs, sliding her nose up and down my sex, very gently, very delicately.

I squirm... Oh my God.

She stops and waits for me to calm down. I lift my head and stare at her, my mouth open. My racing heart tries to slow down.

“Do you know how intoxicating your scent is, Miss DeLuca?” she murmurs.

Without taking her eyes off mine, she buries her nose in my pubic hair and inhales.

I blush, feel like I'm going to faint, and close my eyes instantly. I can't watch her do something like this.

She slowly runs her fingers over my sex. Oh, fuck...

“I like it,” she says, gently pulling my pubic hair. “Maybe we'll keep it.”

“Oh... please,” I beg.

“Mmm... I like it when you beg me, Carina.” I moan.

“I don't usually return the favor, Miss DeLuca,” she whispers, sliding down my sex, “but today you've pleased me, so you have to get your reward.”

I hear the wicked smile in her voice, and as my body throbs with her words, she begins to circle my clit with her tongue very slowly, holding my thighs with her hands.

“Ahhh!” I moan.

My body arches and convulses at the touch of her tongue.

She continues to torture me with her tongue over and over again. I lose consciousness of myself. Every particle of my being is concentrated on the small nerve center above my thighs. My legs go stiff. I hear her moan as she inserts a finger.

“Beautiful, I love that you're so wet for me.”

She moves her finger in a wide circle, expanding me, pushing me, and her tongue follows the rhythm of her finger around my clit. I moan. It's too much...

My body begs me to relieve it, and I can't keep denying it. I let myself go. The orgasm takes hold of me and I lose all coherent thought, writhing inside over and over again. Oh my God! I scream, and the world crumbles and disappears from my sight as the force of my climax nullifies and empties everything.

Maya puts on a condom and climbs on top of me, pressing our sexes together, feeling her exquisite hardness, and slowly penetrates me and begins to move. Oh... my God. The sensation is painful and sweet, strong and gentle at the same time.

“How are you?” she asks me softly.

“Good, perfect,” I reply.

And she starts moving very quickly, deep inside me, thrusting again and again, relentlessly, pushing and pushing until I'm back on the edge of the abyss. I moan.

“Cum for me, beautiful.”

She speaks into my ear in a rough, hard, wild voice, and I explode as she pumps rapidly inside me.

“A thank-you fuck,” she whispers.

She moves quickly and hard once more against me, and she moans as she reaches climax. Then she lies still, her body rigid. She collapses on top of me. I feel her weight crushing me against the mattress. I wrap my bound hands around her neck and hug her as best I can. At this moment, I know I would do anything for this woman. I am hers. The wonder she is teaching me is far more than I could ever have imagined. And she wants to go further, much further, to a place my innocence cannot even imagine. Oh... what should I do?

She leans on her elbows, and her intense blue eyes stare at me.

“See how good we are together?” she murmurs. “If you give yourself to me, it will be so much better. Trust me, Carina. I can transport you to places you don't even know exist.”

Her words echo my thoughts. She presses her nose against mine. I still haven't recovered from my unusual physical reaction and stare at her with a blank mind, searching for some coherent thought.

Suddenly we hear voices in the living room, on the other side of the bedroom. It takes me a moment to process what I'm hearing.

“If she's still in bed, she must be sick. She's never in bed at this hour. Maya never sleeps late.”

“Mrs. Bishop, please.”

“Taylor, you can't stop me from seeing my daughter.”

“Mrs. Bishop, she's not alone.”

“What do you mean she's not alone?”

“She's with someone.”

“Oh...”

Even I can tell she finds that hard to believe.

Maya blinks and stares at me with wide eyes, pretending to be terrified.

“Shit! My mom.”

Notes:

Hello, I want to thank you all for your support that means the world to me and well, I'm back and trying to update fast, no promises.

Love you all, x.

Chapter 16 Summary:

Happy Friday ;)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Suddenly Maya gets up.

"Come on, we have to get dressed... if you want to meet my mother."

She smiles, she gets out of bed and puts on her boxers, jeans and a bra. I try to sit up, but I'm still tied down.

"Maya... I can't move."

Her smile widens. She leans over and unties my tie, which has left marks on my wrists. It's... sexy. She looks at me amused, her eyes dancing. She kisses me quickly on the forehead and smiles.

"Another new thing," she admits.

I have no idea what she means.

"I don't have any clean clothes."

Suddenly panic takes hold of me, and considering the experience I've just had, the panic seems unbearable. Damn it! I don't have any clean clothes, and she practically caught us in the act.

"Maybe I should stay here."

"No, of course not," she replies threateningly. "You can wear something of mine."

She has put on a T-shirt and is brushing her tousled hair. Although I’m very nervous, I’m mesmerized...Her beauty is breathtaking.

"Carina, you'd look beautiful even in a sack. Please don't worry. I'd like you to meet my mother. Get dressed. I'll calm her down a bit."

She presses her lips together. "I'll wait for you in the living room in five minutes. If you're not there, I'll come and get you and drag you out, whatever you're wearing. My shirts are in the closet.

She looks at me inquiringly for a moment and leaves the room.

Damn, Maya's mother. She's much more than I expected. Maybe meeting her will help me put some pieces of the puzzle together. She could help me understand why Maya is the way she is... Suddenly I want to meet her. I go to Maya's dresser and search through her underwear…If there's one thing I hate, it's not wearing clean panties, So I put on one of her boxers... mmmm, the feeling is pleasant, I don't know. I grab my T-shirt, jeans, and Converse. I get dressed in a hurry.

I grab my jacket, run to the bathroom, and look at my overly bright eyes, my red face... and my hair. Oh my God... Messy braids don't suit me either. I look for a brush and comb my hair. I quickly tie my hair back, looking desperately at the clothes I'm wearing.

Maybe I should accept Maya's offer. My subconscious purses its lips and utters the word "ha." I ignore it. I put on my jacket and am glad that the cuffs cover the marks from the tie. Nervously, I look at myself in the mirror one last time. It is what it is. I head to the living room.

Maya’s POV

I leave my room, leaving the beautiful Carina getting ready. I don't understand what my mother is doing here, interrupting one of my sessions with sweet Carina... but if I'm honest, I don't understand what's happening to me with Carina. It's as if I'm under a spell. I desire her, I want her, but on the other hand, my dark side isn't good for her, but I refuse to be without her. She's so beautiful, perfect, and she doesn't believe it! Which irritates me because she's a complete goddess and she's all mine... yes, mine.

Introducing her to my mother? It's a challenge because she knows I like women, but she's never seen me with one, so it will be a delight for her. And to tell the truth, even though I want a different kind of relationship with Carina... I want my mother to meet her. This is all new to me, and I'm constantly having many firsts with Miss DeLuca... like being with a virgin. I've never been with a virgin, and at times I feel guilty because I think she wants something more with me, she wants to touch me, but I'm fucking broken but then I feel really good about being the first in her life, the first to touch her, the first to possess her, the first to be inside her, to hear her sounds in bed. I don't know, I'm under a spell called Carina DeLuca.

Well, time to face my mother. When I open the door to the hallway, I see that Taylor is talking to her. Her face lights up when she sees me.

“Honey, I had no idea you'd have company,” she exclaims, looking a little embarrassed.

“Hello, Mother.” I kiss the cheek she offers me. “I'll deal with her now,” I tell Taylor.

“Yes, Miss Bishop.” He nods, looking exasperated, and heads back to his office.

“Thank you, Taylor,” Grace calls after him, then turns her full attention to me.

“Deal with me?” she says reproachfully. “I was shopping downtown and thought I'd stop by for coffee.” She pauses. “If I'd known you weren't alone...” She shrugs in a strangely feminine way.

She has stopped by for coffee before and there was a woman here... only she never knew it. Now she knows because I want her to meet her. I don't know why I want her to meet her.

Focus, Bishop.

“Carina will be here in a moment,” I admit, putting her out of her misery. “Would you like to sit down?” I point toward the sofa.

“Carina?”

“Yes, mother. Carina, that's her name.” My tone is dry as I try not to laugh. And for once, she is silent as she wanders around the room.

“I see you've had breakfast,” she observes, looking at the unwashed dishes.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“No, thank you, dear.” She sits down. “I'll meet your... friend? And then I'll leave. I don't want to interrupt you. I had a feeling you'd be working like a slave in your studio. You work hard, honey. I thought I'd have to drag you out.” She looks almost apologetic when I join her on the sofa.

“Don’t worry about it.” I’m amused by her reaction. “Why aren’t you at church this morning?”

“Carrick had to work, so we decided to go to the afternoon service. I guess it’s too much to hope you’d come with us.”

I raise an eyebrow in cynical disdain.

“Mother, you know that’s not my thing.”

She sighs, but then Carina appears… dressed in her own clothes, looking shy in the doorway. The tension between mother and daughter is palpable, and I stand up, relieved.

CARINA’S POV

"Here she is," Maya says, getting up from the sofa.

She looks at me with a warm, grateful expression. The blonde woman next to her turns and gives me a broad smile. She gets up too. She looks impeccable in a light brown knit dress and matching shoes, well-groomed and elegant. She is very pretty, and I feel a little mortified thinking that I look like a mess.

"Mom, meet Carina DeLuca. Carina, this is Grace Trevelyan-Bishop."

Dr. Trevelyan-Bishop holds out her hand to me. T... for Trevelyan? Her initial.

"Nice to meet you," she murmurs.

If I'm not mistaken, there's a hint of surprise in her voice, perhaps immense relief, and her brown eyes sparkle warmly. I shake her hand and can't
help but smile back, returning her warmth.

"Dr. Trevelyan-Bishop," I say softly.

"Call me Grace." She smiles, and Maya frowns.

"People usually call me Dr. Trevelyan, and Mrs. Bishop is my mother-in-law." She winks at me. "So, how did you two meet?" she asks, looking questioningly at Maya, unable to hide her curiosity.

"Carina interviewed me for the college magazine because she's graduating this week."

Shit, shit. I forgot.

"So you're graduating this week..." Grace says to me.

"Yes."

My phone starts ringing. I bet it's Gabriella.

"Excuse me."

The phone is in the kitchen. I walk over and pick it up from the counter without looking to see who's calling.

"Gabriella."

"Oh my God! Carina!

Damn, it's Arizona. She sounds desperate.

"Where are you? I've called you twenty times. I need to see you. I want to apologize for Friday. Why haven't you called me back?"

"Look, Arizona, now's not a good time."

I look nervously at Maya, who is watching me intently, her face impassive, as she murmurs something to her mother. I turn my back on her.

"Where are you? Gabriella's been giving me the runaround," she complains.

"In Seattle."

"What are you doing in Seattle? Are you with her?"

"Arizona, I'll call you later. I can't talk right now." And I hang up.

I calmly return to Maya and her mother. Grace is chattering away.

"...and Jack called me to tell me you were around here... I haven't seen you in two weeks, honey."

"Jack knew?" Maya asks, looking at me with an indecipherable expression.

"I thought we could have lunch together, but I see you have other plans, so I don't want to interrupt you."

She picks up her long cream-colored coat, puts it on, and brings it close to her cheek. Maya kisses her quickly. She doesn't touch her.

"I have to take Carina to Portland."

"Of course, honey. Carina, it's been a pleasure meeting you. I hope we see each other again."

She holds out her hand with shining eyes, and I shake it.

Taylor appears from... where?

"Mrs. Bishop..."

"Thank you, Taylor."

She follows her across the room and through the double doors into the lobby behind her. Has Taylor been here the whole time? How long has he been here? Where has he been? Maya looks at me.

"So the photographer called you... Shit.

"Yes."

"What did she want?"

"Just to apologize, you know... for Friday."

Maya frowns.

"I see," she simply says.

Taylor reappears.

"Miss Bishop, there's a problem with the shipment to Darfur."

Maya nods sharply, silencing him.

"Has Charlie Tango returned to Boeing Field?"

"Yes, ma'am." He looks at me and tilts his head. "Miss DeLuca."

I smile awkwardly at him, and he turns and walks away.

"Does Taylor live here?"

"Yes," she replies curtly.

What's wrong with her now?

Maya goes to the kitchen, picks up her BlackBerry, and checks her emails, I guess. She looks very serious. She makes a call.

"Hughes, what's the problem?" she asks abruptly.

She listens without taking her questioning eyes off me. I'm standing in the middle of the huge living room wondering what to do, feeling completely self-conscious and out of place.

"I'm not going to endanger the crew. No, cancel it... We'll launch it from the air... Fine.

She hangs up. The warmth in her eyes is gone. She looks furious. She glances at me quickly, heads to her study, and returns immediately.

"This is the contract. Read it and we'll discuss it next weekend. I suggest you do some research so you know what we're talking about." She pauses for a moment. "Well, if you accept, and I really hope you do," she adds in a softer, nervous tone.

"Do some research?"

"You'd be surprised what you can find on the internet," she murmurs.

The internet! I don't have a computer, just Gabriella's laptop, and of course I can't use Clayton's for this kind of "research."

"What's wrong?" she asks, tilting her head.

"I don't have a computer. I usually use the ones at school. I'll see if I can use Gabriella's laptop."

She hands me a manila envelope.

"I'm sure I can... well... lend you one. Gather your things. We'll drive back to Portland and grab something to eat on the way. I'm going to get dressed."

"I have to make a call," I murmur.

I just want to hear Gabriella's voice. Maya frowns.

"The photographer?"

Her jaw tightens and her eyes burn. I blink.

"I don't like sharing, Miss DeLuca. Remember that," she warns me with chilling calm.

She gives me a long, cold stare and heads for the bedroom.

Damn it. I just wanted to call Gabriella. I want to call her in front of her, but his sudden distant attitude has left me paralyzed. What happened to the generous, relaxed, smiling woman who was making love to me just half an hour ago?

"Ready?" Maya asks me at the double doors to the foyer.

I nod, uncertain. She has regained her distant, polite, and conventional tone. She has returned to and put on her mask. She is carrying a leather bag over her shoulder. Why does she need it? Maybe she is staying in Portland. Then I remember the graduation ceremony. Yes, of course... She will be in Portland on Thursday. She is wearing a black leather jacket. Dressed like that, she certainly does not look like a multimillionaire. She looks like a wild child, maybe a rebellious rock star or a runway model. I sigh inwardly, wishing I had a tenth of her elegance. She's so calm and controlled... I frown as I remember her outburst over the call from Arizona... Well, at least she seems that way.

Taylor is waiting in the back.

"Tomorrow, then," she says to Taylor.

"Yes, Miss," Taylor replies, nodding. "Which car are you taking?"

She glances at me quickly.

"The R8."

"Have a good trip, Miss Bishop. Miss DeLuca."

Taylor looks at me sympathetically, although perhaps deep in his eyes there is a hint of pity.

He undoubtedly believes I have succumbed to Miss Bishop's unsavory sexual habits. Well, her exceptional sexual habits... or perhaps sex is like that for everyone the world? I frown at the thought. I have nothing to compare it to, and obviously I can't ask Gabriella. So I'll have to talk to Maya about it.

Maya, It would be perfectly natural to be able to talk about it with someone... but I can't talk to Maya if she's suddenly outgoing one minute and distant the next.

Taylor holds the door open for us to leave. Maya calls the elevator.

"What's wrong, Carina?" she asks me.

How does she know I'm thinking about something? She raises her hand and lifts my chin.

"Stop biting your lip or I'll fuck you in the elevator, and I won't care if anyone walks in."

I blush, but her lips form a slight smile. It seems she's finally getting her sense of humor back.

"Maya, I have a problem."

"Oh, really?" she asks, looking at me intently.

The elevator arrives. We get in and Maya presses the button for the parking garage.

"Well..."

I blush. How can I explain it to her?

"I need to talk to Gabriella. I have a lot of questions about sex, and you're too involved. If you want me to do all those things, how am I supposed to know...?"
I pause and try to find the right words. "It's just that I don't have any points of reference."

She rolls her eyes.

"If there's no other choice, talk to her," she replies angrily. "But make sure she doesn't say anything to Jack."

Her insinuation makes me jump. Gabriella isn't like that.

"Gabriella wouldn't do that, just like I wouldn't tell you anything she tells me about Jack... if she told me anything," I add quickly.

"Well, the difference is that I'm not interested in his sex life," Maya murmurs dryly. "Jack is a nosy jerk. But only talk to her about what we've done so far," she warns me. "She'd probably cut my boobs off if she knew what I want to do with you," she adds in such a low voice that I'm not sure if she meant for me to hear her.

"Okay," I agree, smiling at her with relief.

I don't even want to think about Gabriella cutting off Maya's boobs.

She purses her lips and shakes her head.

"The sooner you submit to me, the better, and then we can end all this," she murmurs.

"End what?"

"Your challenges."

She runs her hand over my cheek and kisses me quickly on the lips. The elevator doors open. She takes my hand and pulls me toward the parking lot.
My challenges? What is she talking about?
Near the elevator, I see the black Audi 4x4, but when she presses the button to open the doors, the lights of a shiny black sports car come on.

It's one of those cars that should have a long-legged blonde wearing only a Miss USA sash lying on the hood.

"Nice car," I murmur coldly.

She looks at me and smiles.

"I know," she replies.

And for a second, the sweet, young, carefree Maya returns. She inspires tenderness in me. She's excited. The girl and her toys. I roll my eyes, but I can't hide my smile. She opens the door for me and I get in. Wow... it's very low. She walks confidently around the car and, when she reaches the other side, opens the door and sits down.

"What kind of car is it?"

"An Audi R8 Spyder. Since it's such a beautiful day, we can put the top down. There's a cap there. Well, there should be two."

She turns the ignition key, and the engine roars behind us. She puts the bag between the two seats, presses a button, and the top slowly rolls back. She presses another button, and the voice of Bruce Springsteen envelops us.

"You're going to have to like Bruce."

She smiles at me, pulls the car out of the parking space and drives up the steep ramp, where we stop to wait for the gate to open.

And we step out into the sunny Seattle morning in May. I open the glove compartment and take out the caps. Mariners team caps. She likes baseball? I hand her a cap and she puts it on. I run my fingers through the back of mine and lower the visor.

People stare at us as we walk by. For a moment, I think they're looking at her... Then, a paranoid part of me thinks they're looking at me because they know what I've been doing for the last twelve hours, but in the end, I realize they're looking at the car. Maya seems oblivious to everything, lost in her thoughts.

There's little traffic, so it doesn't take us long to reach Interstate 5 heading south, with the wind blowing above our heads. Bruce sings that he's burning with desire. Very appropriate. I blush as I listen to the lyrics. Maya looks at me. Since she's wearing her Ray-Bans, I can't see her expression. She presses her lips together, rests a hand on my knee, and squeezes it gently. My breath catches.

"Are you hungry?" she asks me.

Not for food.

"Not particularly."

Her lips tighten into a firm line again.

"You have to eat, Carina," She scolds me. "I know a fantastic place near Olympia. We'll stop there."

She squeezes my knee again, her hand returns to the steering wheel, and she steps on the gas. I'm thrown back against the seat. My goodness, this car goes fast.

The restaurant is small and intimate, a wooden chalet in the middle of a forest. The decor is rustic: mismatched chairs, tables with checkered tablecloths, and wildflowers in small vases. CUISINE SAUVAGE, boasts a sign above the door.

"It's been a while since I've been here. You can't choose... They cook whatever they've hunted or gathered."

She raises her eyebrows, pretending to be horrified, and I can't help but laugh. The waitress asks us what we're going to drink. She blushes when she sees Maya and hides under her long blonde bangs to avoid looking her in the eye. She likes her! It's not just me!

"Two glasses of Pinot Grigio," Maya says in an authoritative tone.

I frown.

"What's wrong?" she asks sharply.

"I wanted a Diet Coke," I whisper.

She frowns and shakes her head.

"The Pinot Grigio here is a decent wine. It'll go well with the food, whatever they bring us," she says patiently.

"Whatever they bring us?"

"Yes."

She flashes her dazzling smile, tilting her head, and I feel a knot in my stomach. I can't help but smile back.

"My mother likes you," she says suddenly.

"Really?"

Her words make me blush with joy.
"Of course. I told her I was gay, but she never saw me with a girl."

I open my mouth as I remember that question... in the interview. Oh, no.

"Wow... none of the fifteen?

She smiles. "You have a good memory. No, not any of the fifteen."

"Oh."

"Look, Carina, it's been a weekend of firsts for me too," she says quietly.

"Really?"

"I... never slept with anyone, never had sex in my bed, never taken a girl to Charlie Tango, and never introduced a woman to my mother. What are you doing to me?"

The intensity of her burning eyes takes my breath away.

The waitress arrives with our glasses of wine, and I immediately take a small sip. Is she being honest, or is it just a casual comment?

"I had a really good time this weekend, I really did," I say quietly.

She frowns again.

"Stop biting your lip," she growls. "Me too," he adds.

"What's vanilla sex?" I ask, if only to distract myself from her intense, fiery, sexy gaze. She laughs.
"Conventional sex, Carina, without toys or accessories." She shrugs. "You know... well, you don't really know, but that's what it means."

"Oh."

I thought what we had was exquisite melted chocolate cake with a cherry on top. But I guess I don't get it.

The waitress brings us soup, which we both eye with some suspicion.

"Nettle soup," the waitress informs us.
She turns around and returns to the kitchen in a huff. I don't think she likes Maya ignoring her. I try the soup, which is delicious.

Maya and I look at each other at the same time, relieved. I let out a little laugh, and she tilts her head.

"What a lovely sound," she murmurs.

"Why have you never used vanilla powder? Have you always done... well... whatever you do?" I ask her, intrigued.

She nods slowly.

"More or less," she replies cautiously.

For a moment, she frowns and seems to be fighting some kind of internal battle. Then she looks up, as if she has made a decision.

"A friend of my mother's seduced me when I was fifteen."

"Oh.

My God, so young!

"Her tastes were very particular. I was her submissive for six years."

She shrugs.

"Oh."

Her confession leaves me frozen, stunned.

"So I know what that means, Carina," she says with a meaningful look.

I stare at her, unable to speak... Even my subconscious is silent.

"The truth is, I didn't have a very conventional introduction to sex."

"And you never dated anyone in college?"

"No," she replies, shaking her head to emphasize her answer.

The waitress comes in to clear our plates and interrupts us for a moment.

"Why?" I ask her when she's gone.

She smiles mockingly.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Because I didn't want to. I only wanted her. Besides, she would have beaten me to death." She smiles fondly as she remembers. Oh, too much information at once... but I want more.

"If she was a friend of your mother's, how old was she?" She smiles.

"Old enough to know what she was doing."

"Do you still see her?"

"Yes."

"Do you still... well...?" I blush.

"No," she says, shaking her head and smiling indulgently. "She's a good friend."

"Does your mother know?"

She looks at me as if to say, don't be an idiot.

"Of course not."

The waitress returns with two plates of venison, but I've lost my appetite. What a revelation. Maya, submissive... My God. I take a long sip of Pinot Grigio... Maya was right, of course: it's delicious. God, I have to think about everything she's told me. I need time to process it, when I'm alone, because right now her presence is distracting me. She's so irresistible, such an alpha female, and suddenly she drops this bombshell. She knows what it's like to be submissive.

"But you wouldn't be with her all the time..." I say, confused.

"Well, I was alone with her, even though I didn't see her all the time. It was... difficult. After all, I was still in high school, and later in college. Eat,"

"I'm not hungry, Maya, really."

What she's told me has left me stunned. Her expression hardens.

"Eat," she says in a calm tone, too calm.

I look at her. This woman... she was sexually abused as a teenager... Her tone is threatening.

"Wait a minute," I whisper. She blinks a couple of times.

"Okay," she murmurs. And she continues eating.

This is how it will be if I sign. I will have to obey her orders. I frown. Is that what I want? I pick up my fork and knife and start cutting the venison. It's delicious.

"Is this what our... well... our relationship will be like? Will you be giving me orders all the time?" I ask in a whisper, barely daring to look at her.

"Yes," she murmurs.

"I see."

"What's more, you'll want me to," she adds quietly.

I doubt it, honestly. I spear another piece of venison and bring it to my lips.

"That's a lot to say," I murmur.

And I put it in my mouth.

"It is."

She closes her eyes for a second. When she opens them, she looks very serious.

"Carina, you have to follow your instincts. Do some research, read the contract... I don't mind discussing any details. I'll be in Portland until Friday, if you want to talk before the weekend." Her words come at me in a rapid torrent. "Call me... We could have dinner... say, on Wednesday? I really want this to work. I've never wanted anything so much."

Her eyes reflect her burning sincerity and desire. That's basically what I don't understand. Why me? Why not one of the fifteen? Oh, no... Is that what I'm going to become? A number? Number sixteen, no less?

"What happened to the other fifteen?" I ask her suddenly.

She raises her eyebrows in surprise and shakes her head with a resigned expression.

"Different things, but in the end it boils down to..." She pauses, I think trying to find the words. "Incompatibility." She shrugs.

"And you think I could be compatible with you?"

"Yes."

"So you don't see any of them anymore."

"No, Carina. I'm monogamous."

Wow... that's news.

"I see."

"Do some research, Carina."

I put down my knife and fork. I can't eat anymore.

"Are you done? Is that all you're going to eat?"

I nod. She gives me a dirty look, but decides to keep quiet. I let out a small sigh of relief. All this information has turned my stomach, and I'm a little dizzy from the wine. I watch her devour everything on her plate. She eats like a bird. She must exercise a lot to stay in shape. Suddenly, I remember how her pajamas fit her... and the image distracts me. I shift uncomfortably. She looks at me, and I blush.

"I'd give anything to know what you're thinking right now," she murmurs.

I blush even more.

She gives me a wicked smile.

"I can imagine..." she teases me.

"I'm glad you can't read my mind."

"Not your thoughts, Carina, but your body... I know it quite well since yesterday," she says suggestively.

How can she change her mood so quickly? She's so volatile... It's hard to keep up with her.

She calls the waitress and asks for the check. When she has paid, she gets up and holds out her hand to me.

"Let's go."

She takes my hand and we return to the car. What is unexpected about her is this contact with her skin, normal, intimate. I can't reconcile this ordinary, tender gesture with what she wants to do in that room... the red room of pain.

We make the trip from Olympia to Vancouver in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. When she parks in front of the house, it's five in the afternoon.

The lights are on, so Gabriella is inside, no doubt packing, unless Jack hasn't left yet. Maya turns off the engine, and
then it dawns on me that I have to part ways with her.

"Do you want to come in?" I ask her.
I don't want her to leave. I want to spend more time with her.

"No. I have work to do," she says, looking at me with an inscrutable expression.

I look at my hands and interlace my fingers. Suddenly I get sentimental. She's leaving. She takes my hand, slowly brings it to her mouth, and kisses it tenderly, a sweet, old-fashioned gesture. My heart skips a beat.

"Thanks for this weekend, Carina. It's been... wonderful. See you on Wednesday? I'll pick you up at work or wherever you want."

"See you on Wednesday," I whisper.

She kisses my hand again and leaves it in my lap. She gets out of the car, comes over to my door, and opens it for me. Why do I suddenly feel like an orphan? I get a lump in my throat. I don't want her to see me like this. I force a smile, get out of the car, and head for the door, knowing I have to face Gabriella. Halfway there, I turn and look at her.

Cheer up, DeLuca, I scold myself.

"Oh... by the way, I'm wearing one of your boxers."

I smile at her and pull on the elastic of her boxers so she can see. Maya's mouth drops open in surprise. Great reaction. My mood changes immediately and I strut into the house. Part of me wants to raise my fist and jump for joy. YES! The goddess inside me is delighted.

Maya’s POV

She stole my boxers!

I'm stunned and, at that moment, I want nothing more than to see her in my boxers... and only in them. She tosses her hair back and struts toward her apartment, leaving me standing on her sidewalk, looking like a fool.

I shake my head, get in the car, and when I start the engine, I can't help but smile like an idiot.
I hope she says yes.

I finish my work and take a sip of fine Sancerre, delivered by room service by the woman with very dark eyes. Scrolling through my emails and responding when necessary has been a welcome distraction from thoughts of Carina. And now I'm pleasantly tired. Is it the five hours of work? Or all the sexual activity last night and this morning? Memories of the delightful Miss DeLuca invade my mind: in Charlie Tango, in my bed, in my bathtub, dancing around my kitchen. And to think it all started here on Friday...and now she is considering my proposal.

Has she read the contract? Is she doing her homework?

I check my phone again for a text message or missed call, of course, there is nothing.

Will she agree?

I hope so...

Andrea has sent me Carina's new email address and assures me that the laptop will be delivered tomorrow morning. With that in mind, I write an email.

From: Maya Bishop

Subject: Your new computer

Date: May 22, 2022, 11:15 p.m.

To: Carina DeLuca

Dear Ms. DeLuca:

I trust you slept well.
I hope you make good use of this laptop, as we discussed. I look forward to having dinner with you on Wednesday.

Until then, I will be happy to answer any questions via email, if you wish.

Maya Bishop
President, Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

The email didn't bounce, so the address is active. I wonder how Carina will react in the morning when she reads it. I hope she likes the laptop. I guess I'll find out tomorrow. Picking up my latest read, I settle into the sofa. It's a book by two renowned economists who examine why poor people think and behave the way they do.

An image of a young woman brushing her long blonde hair comes to mind; her hair glistens in the light from the half-open yellow window, and the air is filled with dancing dust motes. She is singing softly to a little blonde girl.

I shudder.

Don't go there, Bishop.

I open the book and begin to read.

It's after one in the morning when I go to bed. Staring at the ceiling, I'm tired, relaxed, but also excited, anticipating what the week will bring. I hope to have a new project: Miss Carina DeLuca.

Carina’s POV

"So, How are you?" Gabriella asks me in a feverish, nervous tone.

She comes over to me, grabs me by the shoulders, and examines my face closely before I even have a chance to say hello.

Shit... I have to deal with Gabriella's insistence and tenacity, and I have a signed legal document in my bag that says I can't talk. It's not a healthy combination.

"Well, how did it go? I haven't stopped thinking about you the whole time... after Jack left, of course," she says, smiling mischievously.

I can't help but smile at her concern and pressing curiosity, but suddenly I feel embarrassed and blush. What happened was very intimate. Seeing and knowing what Maya hides. But I have to give her some details, because otherwise she won't leave me alone.

"It went well, Gabriella. Very well, I think," I say calmly, trying to hide my smile.

"Are you sure?"

"I have nothing to compare it to, right?" I say, shrugging apologetically.

"Did you cum?"

Damn, she's so direct. I blush.

"Yes," I murmur nervously.

Gabriella pushes me onto the sofa and we sit down. She takes my hands.

"Okay." She looks at me as if she doesn't believe me. "It was your first time. Wow... Maya must know what she's doing."

Oh, Gabriella, if only you knew...

"My first time was terrifying," she continues, putting on a sad face like a comedy mask.

"Really?"

I'm interested. She never told me that before.

"Yeah. Ryder Prince. In high school. An asshole jock." She shrugs. "He was really rough, and I wasn't ready. We were both drunk. You know... the typical teenage disaster after prom. Ugh, it took me months to decide to try again. And not with that jerk. I was too young. You did the right thing by waiting."

"Gabriella, that sounds awful."

She seems melancholy.

"Yeah, it took me almost a year to have my first orgasm."

I nod shyly. The goddess inside me is sitting in the lotus position and seems serene, although she has a sly, self-satisfied smile on her face.

"I'm glad you lost your virginity to a woman who knows what she's doing, and you know I'm not bothered by you being gay." She winks at me. "So when are you seeing her again?"

"On Wednesday. We're going out to dinner."

"So you still like her..."

"Yes, but I don't know what's going to happen."

"Why?"

"It's complicated, Gabriella. You know... Her world is totally different from mine."

Good excuse. And believable. Much better than "she has a red room of pain and wants to make me her sex slave."

"Come on, please don't let money be a problem, Carina. Jack told me it's very rare for Maya to date a girl."

"He told you that?" I ask in a tone that's too high-pitched.

You're giving yourself away, DeLuca! My subconscious looks at me, wiggling its long finger, and then transforms into the scales of justice to remind me that Maya could sue me if I talk too much. Ha... What's she going to do? Take all my money? I have to remember to Google "penalties for breaching a confidentiality agreement" when I do my "research." It's like I've been given homework. Maybe I'll even get a degree. I blush as I remember my A for this morning's experiment in the bathtub.

"Carina, what's going on?"

"I was remembering something Maya told me."

"You seem different," Gabriella says affectionately.

"I feel different...uh, sore," I confess.

"Sore?"

"A little."

I blush.

"They're like animals, right?." she says with a grimace.

We both laugh.

"Are you sore too?" I ask, surprised.

"Yes... for fucking so much."

And I burst out laughing.

"Tell me about Jack," I ask when I finally stop.

I feel myself relax for the first time since I was waiting in line for the bathroom at the bar... before the phone call that started all this...when I admired Maya Bishop from a distance. Happy, uncomplicated days. Gabriella blushes. Oh, my God... Gabriella Aurora becomes Carina DeLuca. She gives me an innocent look. I've never seen her react like this to a man before. My jaw drops so far that it hits the floor. Where is sassy Gabriella?

"Carina," she says enthusiastically, "he's so... so... he has it all. And when... oh... it's fantastic."

She's so upset she can barely string a sentence together.

"I think what you're trying to tell me is that you like him."

She nods and laughs like crazy.

"I'm meeting him on Saturday. He's going to help us move."

She claps her hands together, gets up from the sofa, and skips over to the window. The move. Damn, I'd forgotten about that, even though there are boxes everywhere.

"That's very kind of him," I say.

That way I'll get to know him. Maybe he can give me more clues about his strange and disturbing sister.

"So, what did you guys do last night?" I ask her. She tilts her head toward me and raises her eyebrows in a gesture that says, "What do you think, idiot?"

"Pretty much the same as you, but we had dinner earlier," she says, laughing. "Are you really okay? You seem a little stressed."

"I'm stressed. Maya is very intense."

"Yeah, I get the picture. But has she been nice to you?"

"Yes," I reassure her. "I'm starving. Do you want me to make something?"

She nods and puts a couple of books in a box.
"What are you going to do with the fourteen thousand dollar books?" she asks me.

"I'm going to give them back."

"Really?"

"It's too extravagant a gift. I can't accept it, especially now."

I smile, and Gabriella nods.

"I understand. A couple of letters have arrived for you, and Arizona hasn't stopped calling. She sounded desperate."

"I'll call her," I murmur evasively.

If I tell Gabriella about Arizona, she'll eat her alive. I pick up the letters from the table and open them.

"Wow, I have interviews! In two weeks, in Seattle, for the internship."

"With which publisher?"

"Both of them."

"I told you your academic record would open doors, Carina."

Gabriella already has her internship at The Seattle Times, of course. Her father knows someone who knows someone.

"What does Jack think about you going on vacation?" I ask her.

Gabriella heads for the kitchen, and for the first time since I arrived, she looks heartbroken.

"He understands. Part of me doesn't want to leave, but it's tempting to lie in the sun for a couple of weeks. Besides, my mom keeps insisting, because she thinks it will be our last family vacation before my brother and I start working seriously.

I've never left the United States ever since my mom and Ray brought me here from Italy as a baby, I've wanted to see the place where I was born, my other roots. Gabriella is going to Barbados for two weeks with her parents and her brother. I'll be spending two weeks alone, without Gabriella, in the new house. It'll be weird. Her brother has been traveling the world since last year, after graduating. For a moment, I wonder if I'll see him before they leave on vacation. He's a really nice guy. The phone snaps me out of my reverie.

"It must be Arizona."

I sigh. I know I have to talk to her. I pick up the phone.

"Hello."

"Carina, you're back!" Arizona exclaims with relief.

"Obviously," I reply with a touch of sarcasm.
I roll my eyes.

"Can I see you? I'm so sorry about Friday. I was drunk... and you... well. Carina, please forgive me."

"Ugh, fine... I forgive you, Arizona. But don't let it happen again. You know how I feel about you."

She sighs deeply, sadly.

"I know, Carina. But I thought that if I kissed you, maybe your feelings would change."

"Arizona, you're very important to me. You're a really good friend and that's not going to change. You know that, I'm sorry to hurt you, but it's the truth."

"So, are you dating her?" she asks me with disdain.

"Arizona..."

"But you spent the night with her."

"That's none of your business!"

"Is it about her money?"

"Arizona! How dare you?" I yell, stunned by her audacity.

"Carina," she says in a plaintive voice, apologetically.

Right now, I'm not in the mood to put up with her petty jealousy. I know she's hurt, but I've got enough to deal with Maya Bishop.

"Maybe we could have coffee tomorrow. I'll call you," she say in a conciliatory tone.

She's my friend and I care about her deeply, but right now I'm not in the mood to put up with this.

"Good night, Arizona."

I hang up without waiting for her response.

"What's this all about?" Gabriella asks me, hands on her hips.

I decide it's best to tell her the truth. She seems more stubborn than ever.

"On Friday, she tried to kiss me."

"Arizona? Carina, your pheromones must be working overtime. What was that jerk thinking?"

She shakes her head angrily and continues packing.

Three quarters of an hour later, we take a break to eat, the house specialty, my lasagna. Gabriella opens a bottle of wine, and we sit down to eat among the boxes, drinking cheap red wine and watching trashy TV shows. Normality. It's welcome and reassuring after the last forty-eight hours of... madness. It's my first meal in two days without worries, without being pressured, and in peace.

What is Maya's problem with food?

Gabriella clears the dishes while I finish packing up what's left in the living room. We've only left the sofa, the TV, and the table. What else could we need? All that's left to pack is the contents of our bedrooms and the kitchen, and we have the whole week ahead of us.

The phone rings again. It's Jack. Gabriella winks at me and skips into her room like a teenager. I know she should be writing her speech for being valedictorian, but Jack seems more important. What is it about the Bishops? What makes them so absorbing, so devouring, so irresistible? I take another sip of wine.

I flip through the channels looking for something to watch, but deep down I know I'm stalling on purpose. The contract is burning a hole in my bag. Will I have the strength and what it takes to read it tonight?

I rest my head in my hands. Both Arizona and Maya want something from me. With Arizona it's easy, it's a no...just friends, but Maya... dealing with and understanding Maya is another matter, but I like her.

Part of me wants to run away and hide. What am I going to do? I think of her fiery blue eyes, her intense, provocative gaze, and I tense up.

I stifle a scream. She's not even here and I'm already at a hundred miles an hour. It can't just be sex, can it? I think about her kind jokes this morning at breakfast, about her joy at seeing me delighted with the helicopter ride, at how she played the piano, that music so sad, sweet, and moving... She's a very complicated woman. And now I'm beginning to understand why. A girl deprived of her adolescence, sexually abused by an evil Mrs. Robinson... No wonder she seems older than she is. It saddens me to think about what she must have gone through.

I'm too naive to know exactly what it's all about, but the investigation will shed some light on it. But do I really want to know? Do I want to explore that world I know nothing about? It's a very important step.
If I hadn't met her, I would still be so happy, oblivious to all this. My mind wanders to last night and this morning... to the incredible, sensual sexuality I
I experienced. Do I want to say goodbye to her? No! my subconscious exclaims... The goddess inside me, immersed in Zen-like silence, nods to show that she agrees with her.

Gabriella returns to the dining room smiling from ear to ear. Maybe she's in love. I stare at her open-mouthed. She's never behaved like this before.

"Carina, I'm going to bed. I'm very tired."

"Me too, Gabriella."

She hugs me.

"I'm glad you're back safe and sound. There's something strange about Maya," she adds quietly, apologetically.

I smile to reassure her, but I think to myself: How on earth does she know? That's why she'll be such a great journalist, because of her infallible intuition.
I grab my bag and trudge off to my room. The sexual exertions of the last few hours and the total and absolute dilemma I face have left me exhausted. I sit on the bed, cautiously take the manila envelope out of my bag, and turn it over in my hands. Am I sure I want to know the extent of Maya's depravity? She's so intimidating... I take a deep breath and tear open the envelope with my heart in my mouth.

Notes:

Hey! A new chapter, thank you all for waiting for me. Well, I was thinking, in a few weeks I'll have more time, so would you like a chapter marathon?

Oh, I need your help. There's a character who will appear in the second part, spoiler alert, and I'd like you to let me know which character you hate the most so I can adapt he/she to the story. The character that gets mentioned the most will be chosen, and it can be male or female.

Chapter 17 Summary:

Happy Saturday ;)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Carina's POV

There are several papers in the envelope. I take them out, my heart beating fast, sit down on the bed, and start reading.

CONTRACT

On ___________, 2022 ("start date")
BETWEEN
MISS Maya Bishop, residing at Escala 301, Seattle, 98889 Washington
("the Mistress")
AND MISS Carina DeLuca, residing at 1114 SW Green Street, Apartment 7, Haven Heights, Vancouver, 98888 Washington
("the Submissive")

THE PARTIES AGREE AS FOLLOWS

1. The following points are the terms of a binding contract between the Mistress and the Submissive.

BASIC TERMS

2. The fundamental purpose of this contract is to allow the Submissive to explore her sensuality and limits in a safe manner, with due respect and consideration for her needs, limits, and well-being.

3. The Mistress and the Submissive agree and acknowledge that everything that happens under the terms of this contract will be consensual and confidential, and will be subject to the agreed limits and the safety procedures set forth in this contract. Additional limits and safety procedures may be added.

4. The Mistress and the Submissive guarantee that they do not have any sexually transmitted infections or serious illnesses, including HIV, herpes, and hepatitis, among others. If, during the term of the
contract (as defined below) or any extension thereof, one of the parties is diagnosed with or becomes aware of having any of these diseases, they undertake to inform the other immediately and in any case before any contact between the parties takes place.

5. The above guarantees and agreements (and any additional limits and safety procedures agreed in clause 3) must be complied with. Any breach
shall immediately invalidate this contract, and both parties agree to fully assume the consequences of the breach to the other party.

6. All points in this contract must be read and interpreted in light of the purpose and fundamental terms set out in clauses 2-5.

ROLES

7. The Mistress shall be responsible for the well-being and training, guidance, and discipline of the Submissive. She shall decide the type of training, guidance, and discipline, and the time and place of administering them, in accordance with the agreed terms, limits, and safety procedures set forth in this contract or added in clause 3.

8. If at any time the Mistress fails to uphold the agreed terms, limits, and safety procedures set forth in this contract or added in clause 3, the Submissive has the right to terminate this contract immediately and leave the Mistress's service without prior notice.

9. Subject to this condition and clauses 2-5, the Submissive must obey the Mistress in all things. Subject to the agreed terms, limits, and safety procedures established in this contract or added in clause 3, she must offer the Mistress, without question or hesitation, all the pleasure she demands, training, guidance, and discipline in all its forms.

START AND TERM

10. The Mistress and the Submissive sign this contract on the start date, aware of its nature and agreeing to abide by its terms without exception.

11. This contract shall be effective for a period of three months from the start date ("contract term"). Upon expiration of the term, the parties shall discuss whether this contract and the provisions set forth therein are satisfactory and whether the needs of each party have been met. Both parties may propose to extend the contract and adjust the terms or agreements set forth therein. If no agreement is reached to extend it, this contract shall terminate and both parties shall be free to go their separate ways
separately.

AVAILABILITY

12. The Submissive shall be available to the Mistress from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon, every week during the term of the contract, at times to be specified by the Mistress ("assigned hours"). Additional assigned hours may be mutually agreed upon.

13. The Mistress reserves the right to refuse the Submissive's service at any time and for any reason. The Submissive may request her release at any time, which shall be at the Mistress's discretion and shall be subject exclusively to the Submissive's rights as set forth in clauses 2-5 and 8.

LOCATION

14. The Submissive shall be available at the assigned hours and additional hours at the locations determined by the Mistress. The Mistress shall bear all travel costs incurred by the Submissive for this purpose.

PROVISION OF SERVICES

15. The two parties have discussed and agreed on the following services, and both must comply with them during the term of the contract. Both parties accept that issues may arise that are not covered by the terms of this contract or the provision of services, and that certain issues may be renegotiated. In these circumstances, additional clauses may be proposed by way of amendment. Both parties shall agree, draft, and sign any additional clause or amendment, which
shall be subject to the fundamental terms set forth in clauses 2-5.

DOMINATRIX

15.1. The Mistress must prioritize the health and safety of the Submissive at all times. The Mistress shall at no time demand, request, allow, or ask the Submissive to participate in the activities detailed in Appendix 2 or in any activity that either party considers unsafe. The Mistress shall not carry out, or allow to be carried out, any activity that could seriously injure the Submissive or endanger her life. The remaining sub-sections of this clause 15 should be read in light of this condition and the fundamental agreements in clauses 2-5.

15.2. The Mistress accepts control, dominance, and discipline over the Submissive for the duration of the contract. The Mistress may use the Submissive's body at any time during the assigned hours, or during additional agreed-upon hours, in any manner she deems appropriate, sexually or in any other area.

15.3. The Mistress shall provide the Submissive with the training and guidance necessary to serve the Mistress properly.

15.4. The Mistress shall maintain a stable and safe environment in which the Submissive can carry out her obligations to serve the Mistress.

15.5. The Mistress may discipline the Submissive as necessary to ensure that the Submissive fully understands her role of submission to the Mistress and to discourage unacceptable behavior. The Mistress may spank, whip, flog, and physically punish the Submissive as she sees fit for reasons of discipline, pleasure, or any other reason, which she is not obligated to disclose.

15.6. In training and administering discipline, the Mistress shall ensure that no marks are left on the Submissive's body and no injuries requiring medical attention are caused.

15.7. In training and in the administration of discipline, the Mistress shall ensure that the discipline and the instruments used to administer it are safe, shall not use them in a way that causes serious harm, and in no case may she exceed the limits established and detailed in this contract.

15.8. In the event of illness or injury, the Mistress shall care for the Submissive, monitor her health and safety, and seek medical attention when deemed necessary.

15.9. The Mistress shall take care of her own health and seek medical attention when necessary to avoid risks.

15.10. The Mistress shall not lend her Submissive to another Master.

15.11. The Mistress may restrain, handcuff, or tie up the Submissive at any time during the assigned hours or at any additional time for any reason and for long periods of time, paying due attention to the health and safety of the Submissive.

15.12. The Mistress shall ensure that all equipment used for training and discipline is kept clean, hygienic, and safe at all times.

SUBMISSIVE

15.13. The Submissive accepts the Mistress as her owner and understands that she is now her property and is at her disposal whenever the Mistress pleases during the term of the contract in general, but especially during the assigned hours and any additional hours agreed upon.

15.14. The Submissive shall obey the rules set out in Appendix 1 of this contract.

15.15. The Submissive shall serve the Mistress in everything the Mistress deems appropriate and shall do everything possible to please the Mistress at all times.

15.16. The Submissive shall take the necessary measures to care for her health, shall request or seek medical attention when she needs it, and shall keep the Mistress informed at all times of any health problems that may arise.

15.17. The Submissive shall accept without question each and every disciplinary action that the Mistress deems necessary, and shall at all times remember her role and function towards the Mistress.

15.18. The Submissive shall not touch herself or provide sexual pleasure without the Mistress's permission.

15.19. The Submissive will submit to any sexual activity demanded by the Mistress, without hesitation or argument.

15.20. The Submissive shall accept spanking, caning, whipping, or any other discipline that the Mistress decides to administer, without hesitation, questioning, or complaining.

15.21. The Submissive shall not look directly into the Mistress's eyes except when ordered to do so. The Submissive must lower her eyes, remain silent, and be respectful in the Mistress's presence.

15.22. The Submissive shall always behave respectfully towards the Mistress and shall only address her as Madam, Miss Bishop, or any other name the Mistress commands.

15.23 The Submissive shall not touch the Mistress without her express consent.

ACTIVITIES

16. The Submissive shall not participate in sexual activities or acts that either party considers unsafe, nor in the activities detailed in Appendix 2.

17. The Mistress and the Submissive have discussed the activities set out in Appendix 3 and have recorded their agreement in writing in Appendix 3.

SAFETY WORDS

18. The Mistress and the Submissive acknowledge that the Mistress may request actions from the Submissive that cannot be performed without incurring physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or other harm at the time they are requested. In such circumstances, the Submissive may use a safety word. Two safety words will be included depending on the intensity of the demands.

19. The safe word "Yellow" will be used to indicate to the Mistress that the Submissive is reaching her limit of endurance.

20. The safe word "Red" will be used to indicate to the Mistress that the Submissive can no longer tolerate further demands. When this word is spoken, the Mistress's actions will cease completely with immediate effect.

CONCLUSION

21. The undersigned have read and fully understood the provisions of this contract. We freely accept the terms of this contract and, with our signature, give
our agreement.

The Mistress: Maya Bishop
Date
The Submissive: Carina DeLuca
Date

APPENDIX 1 RULES

Obedience:

The Submissive shall immediately obey all instructions from the Mistress, without hesitation, without reservation, and expeditiously. The Submissive shall accept all sexual activities that the Mistress considers appropriate and pleasurable, except for activities covered by the insurmountable limits (Appendix 2). She shall do so enthusiastically and without hesitation.

Sleep:

The Submissive shall ensure that she sleeps at least eight hours a day when she is not with the Mistress.

Food:

To take care of her health and well-being, the Submissive will frequently eat the foods included in a list (Appendix 4). The Submissive will not eat between meals, except for fruit.

Clothing:

During the term of the contract, the Submissive will only wear clothing that the Mistress has approved. The Mistress will provide the Submissive with a clothing budget, which the Submissive must use. The
Mistress will accompany the Submissive to purchase clothing when necessary. If the Mistress so requires, while the contract is in force, the Submissive will wear the adornments required by the Mistress, in her presence or at any other time the Mistress deems appropriate.

Exercise:

The Mistress will provide the Submissive with a personal trainer four times a week, in one-hour sessions, at times agreed upon by the personal trainer and the Submissive. The personal trainer will report to the Mistress on the Submissive's progress.

Personal hygiene and beauty:

The Submissive shall be clean and shaved at all times. The Submissive shall go to a beauty salon chosen by the Mistress when the Mistress so decides and shall undergo any treatment desired by the Mistress. The Submissive shall be clean and shaved at all times. The Mistress shall bear all expenses.

Personal safety:

The Submissive shall not drink excessively, smoke, take psychotropic substances, or take unnecessary risks.

Personal qualities:

The Submissive will only have sexual relations with the Mistress. The Submissive will behave with respect and humility at all times. She must understand that her behavior directly influences that of the Master. She will be responsible for any misdeeds, evil, and misconduct she commits when the Mistress is not present.
directly on that of the Master. She will be responsible for any misdeeds, wickedness, and misconduct she commits when the Mistress is not present.
Failure to comply with any of the above rules will be immediately punished, and the Mistress will determine the nature of the punishment.

APPENDIX 2

Unbreakable limits

Acts involving fire.
Acts involving needles, knives, piercings, and blood.
Acts involving gynecological medical instruments.
Acts that leave permanent marks on the skin.
Acts related to breath control.
Activities involving direct contact with electric current (both alternating and direct), fire, or flames on the body.

APPENDIX 3

Tolerable limits

To be discussed and agreed upon by both parties:

Does the Submissive accept the following?
• Masturbation
• Vaginal penetration
• Cunnilingus
• Vaginal fisting
• Anal penetration
• Anal fisting

Does the Submissive accept the following?
• Vibrators
• Dildos
• Anal plugs
• Harness
• Other vaginal/anal toys

Does the Submissive accept the following?
• Rope bondage
• Tape bondage
• Bondage with wrist cuffs
• Other types of leather bondage
• Bondage with handcuffs and shackles

Does the submissive accept the following types of bondage?
• Hands in front
• Wrists and ankles
• Ankles
• To objects, furniture, etc.
• Elbows
• Rigid bars
• Hands behind the back
• Suspension
• Knees

Does the submissive agree to be blindfolded?
Does the submissive agree to be gagged?
How much pain is the submissive willing to experience?
1 means she likes it a lot and 5 means she dislikes it a lot:
1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5

Does the Submissive accept the following forms of pain/punishment/discipline?
• Spanking
• Spanking with a paddle
• Whipping
• Caning
• Biting
• Nipple clamps
• Genital clamps
• Ice
• Hot wax
• Other types/methods of pain

Oh my God. I don't even have the strength to look at the food list. I swallow hard and my mouth is dry. I read it again.

My head is spinning. How am I supposed to accept all this? And apparently it's for my own good, so I can safely explore my sensuality and my limits... Please! It's ridiculous. Serve her and obey her in everything. Everything! I shake my head, unable to believe it.

Actually, don't marriage vows use words
like... obedience? It baffles me. Do couples still say that? Only three months... Is that why there have been so many? Doesn't she keep them for very long? Or did three months was enough for them? Every weekend? It's too much. I won't be able to see Gabriella or any friends I might make at my new job,
assuming I find a job. Maybe I should reserve one weekend a month for myself. Maybe when we have the rule... It seems... practical. She owns me!
I'll have to do whatever she wants! Oh my God.
I shudder at the thought of her spanking or hitting me. Spanking probably isn't that bad, although it is humiliating. And tying me up? Well, she's already tied my hands. It was... well, it was exciting, very exciting, so maybe it won't be so bad either. She won't lend me to another Mistress... Damn it, of course not. That would be totally unacceptable. Why am I even bothering to think about all this?

I can't look her in the eyes. How strange! It's the only way I have any chance of knowing what she's thinking. But who am I kidding? I never know what she's thinking, but I like looking into her eyes. They're beautiful, captivating, intelligent, deep, and dark, with secrets of domination. I think of her fiery gaze, I squeeze my thighs together and shudder, and I can't touch her. Well, this doesn't surprise me. And those stupid rules... No, no, I can't. I cover my face with my hands. This is no way to maintain a relationship. I need to get some sleep. I'm exhausted. The physical antics I've been up to in the last twenty-four hours have been downright exhausting. And mentally... Oh, it's too much. As Arizona would say, a real mental fuck-up. Maybe in the morning it won't seem like such a bad joke.

I get up and change quickly. Maybe I should borrow Gabriella's pink flannel pajamas. I need the comfort of something soft and reassuring.

I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth in my T-shirt and pajama shorts. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror. You can't be seriously considering this... My subconscious seems sane and rational, not scathing, as it usually is. The goddess inside me keeps jumping up and down and clapping her hands like a five-year-old. Please say yes... otherwise, we'll end up alone with a bunch of cats and your novels for company.

The only person I've ever been attracted to, and she comes with a damn contract, a whip, and endless clauses and conditions. Well, at least I got what I wanted this weekend. The goddess inside me stops jumping and smiles serenely. Oh, yes...! she articulates with her lips, nodding smugly. I blush as I remember her hands and her full mouth on me, her dick so deep inside. I close my eyes and feel the exquisite tension in my muscles deep inside. I want to do it again and again. Maybe if I just stick to
with sex... would she accept? I'm afraid not.
Am I submissive? Maybe I seem that way. Maybe I gave her that impression in the interview. I'm shy, yes... but submissive? I let Gabriella overwhelm me... Is that the same thing? And those tolerable limits... I'm shocked, although it reassures me to know that we have to discuss them.

I go back to my room. It's too much to think about. I need to clear my head, think about it in the morning, when I'm fresh. I put the transgressive documents in my bag. Tomorrow... tomorrow will be another day. I get into bed, turn off the light, and lie down staring at the ceiling. I wish I had never met her. The goddess inside me nods. We both know that's a lie. I've never felt so alive.

I close my eyes and sink into a deep sleep in which I occasionally see four-poster beds, shackles, and intense gray eyes.

The next morning, Gabriella wakes me up.

"Carina, I've been calling you for a while. Did you pass out?"

My eyes refuse to open. Not only has she gotten up, but she's gone for a run. I glance at the alarm clock. Eight in the morning. Wow, I've slept for over nine hours.

"What's going on?" I mumble, half asleep.

"A guy came by with a package for you. You have to sign for it."

"What?"

"Come on. It's big. It looks interesting."

She jumps up excitedly and goes back to the dining room. I get out of bed and grab my robe, which is hanging on the door. In the dining room, there's a smartly dressed guy with a ponytail and a large box in his hands.

"Hello," I murmur.

"I'll make you some tea," Gabriella says, heading into the kitchen.

"Miss DeLuca?"

And I immediately know who sent me the package.

"Yes," I reply suspiciously.

"I have a package for you, but I need to install it and show you how to use it."

"Really? At this hour?"

"I'm just following orders, ma'am."

He gives me a charming but brisk smile, as if to say, don't bother me with nonsense. Did he just call me "ma'am"? Have I aged ten years overnight? If so, it's the contract's fault. I purse my lips in disgust.

"Okay, what is it?"

"A MacBook Pro."

"Of course," I say, rolling my eyes.

"It's not in stores yet, ma'am. It's the latest from Apple."

Why am I not surprised? I sigh loudly.

"Put it over there, on the dining room table."

I go to the kitchen to meet Gabriella.

"What is it?" she asks me, her eyes shining.

She has her hair in a ponytail. She slept well too.

"A laptop from Maya."

"Why is she sending you a laptop? You know you can use mine."

Not for what she has in mind.

"Well, it's just a loan. She wanted me to try it out."
My excuse seems unconvincing, but Gabriella nods. Wow... I lied to Gabriella Aurora. That's a first. I pass her my cup of tea.

The laptop is shiny, silver, and quite nice, with a huge screen. Maya Bishop likes things on a grand scale... I think about where she lives, in her house.

"It has the latest OS and a whole bunch of software, plus a 1.5 terabyte hard drive, so it'll have plenty of space, 32 gigabytes of RAM... What are you going to use it for?"

"Well... to send emails."

"Emails!" he exclaims, stunned, raising his eyebrows with a slightly crazy look.

"And maybe surf the internet..." I add, shrugging my shoulders, as if apologizing.

He sighs.

"Well, it has a wireless N router, and I've set it up with your account specifications. This thing is ready to work practically anywhere in the world," he explains, looking at it with a certain desire.

"My account?"

"Your new email address.

Do I have an email address?
He taps an icon on the screen and continues talking to me, but I don't pay any attention. I don't understand a word he's saying, and to be honest, I don't care. Just tell me how to
turn it on and off... I'll figure out the rest. After all, I've been using Gabriella's for four years. Gabriella whistles in awe as soon as she sees it.

"It's state-of-the-art technology," she says, raising her eyebrows. "Most women get flowers or jewelry," she teases me, trying not to smile.

I give her a dirty look, but I can't keep a straight face. We both burst out laughing, and the computer guy stares at us in bewilderment, his mouth agape. He finishes and asks me to sign the delivery note.
While Gabriella walks him to the door, I sit down with my cup of tea, open my email program, and discover that I have an email waiting for me from Maya. My heart leaps. I have an email from Maya Bishop. I open it nervously.

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 22, 2022, 11:15 p.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Your new computer
Dear Ms. DeLuca:
I trust you slept well. I hope you put this laptop to good use, as we discussed.
I look forward to having dinner with you on Wednesday.
Until then, I'd be happy to answer any questions via email, if you'd like.
Maya Bishop
President, Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I press "Reply."

From: Carina DeLuca
Date: May 23, 2022, 8:20 a.m.
To: Maya Bishop
Subject: Your new computer (on loan)
I slept very well, thank you... for some strange reason... Ma'am.
I understood that the computer was on loan, meaning it's not mine.
Carina

Her reply arrives almost immediately.

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 23, 2022, 8:22 a.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Your new computer (on loan)
The computer is on loan. Indefinitely, Miss DeLuca.
I can tell from your tone that you have read the documentation I gave you.
Do you have any questions?
Maya Bishop
President, Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I can't help but smile.

From: Carina DeLuca
Date: May 23, 2022 08:25
To: Maya Bishop
Subject: Inquisitive Minds
I have many questions, but it doesn't seem appropriate to ask them via email, and some of us have to work for a living.
I don't want or need a computer indefinitely.
See you later. Have a nice day... Ma'am.
Carina

Her response is instantaneous again and makes me smile.

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 23, 2022, 8:26 a.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Your new computer (on loan again)
See you later, baby.
P.S. I work for a living too.
Maya Bishop
President, Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I shut down the computer, smiling like an idiot. How can I resist the playful Maya? I'm going to be late for work. Well, it's my last week...I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Clayton will turn a blind eye. I rush to the shower, unable to wipe the smile off my face. She's emailed me! I feel like a giddy little girl. And all my worries about the contract disappear. As I wash my hair, I try to think of what I could ask her in an email,
although these things are probably better discussed in person. Suppose someone hacks her account... I blush just thinking about it. I get dressed quickly, shout goodbye to Gabriella, and leave for my last week at Clayton's. Arizona calls me at eleven.

"Hi, wanna grab coffee?"
Her tone is that of the Arizona I know, my friend Arizona, not a... what did Maya call it? A suitor. Ugh.

"Sure. I'm at work. Can you come by, at noon?"

"Okay, see you at noon."

She hangs up and I go back to restocking the brushes and thinking about Maya and her contract.
Arizona is punctual. She enters the store, skipping hesitantly with puppy-eyes.

"Carina."

"Hi, Arizona." I hug her. "I'm starving. I'm going to tell Mrs. Clayton that I'm going out to lunch."

I'm so glad she's acting... normal, like a friend.

"Carina," she murmurs, "have you really forgiven me?"

"Arizona, yes but don’t do that again."

She smiles. “I promise”

I can't wait to get home to see if I have an email from Maya, and maybe I can start my research. Gabriella is out, so I turn on the new computer and open the email program. Sure enough, I have an email from Maya in my inbox. I almost jump out of my chair with joy.

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 23, 2022, 5:24 p.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Working for a living
Dear Ms. DeLuca:
I hope you had a good day at work.
Maya Bishop
President, Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Press "Reply."

From: Carina DeLuca
Date: May 23, 2022 5:48 p.m.
To: Maya Bishop
Subject: Working for a living
Miss Bishop... I had an excellent day at work.
Thank you.
Carina

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 23, 2022 5:50 p.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Let's get to work!
Ms. DeLuca:
I'm so glad you had a great day.
When you're writing emails, you're not doing research.
Maya Bishop
President, Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

From: Carina DeLuca
Date: May 23, 2022 5:53 p.m.
To: Maya Bishop
Subject: Annoying
Ms. Bishop: Stop sending me emails and I can start doing my homework. I'd like to get another A.
Carina

Hugs to myself.

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 23, 2022, 5:55 p.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Impatient
Ms. DeLuca:
Stop writing me emails... and do your homework.
I'd like to give you another A.
The first one was well deserved. ;)
Maya Bishop
President of Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Maya Bishop just sent me a wink... Oh my God. I open Google.

From: Carina DeLuca
Date: May 23, 2022 5:59 p.m.
To: Maya Bishop
Subject: Internet research
Ms. Bishop:
What do you suggest I put in the search engine?
Carina

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 23, 2022, 6:02 p.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Internet research
Ms. DeLuca:
Always start with Wikipedia.
I don't want any more emails unless you have questions.
Understood?
Maya Bishop
President, Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

From: Carina DeLuca
Date: May 23, 2022 6:04 p.m.
To: Maya Bishop
Subject: Authoritative!
Yes... ma'am.
You're very bossy.
Carina

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 23, 2022, 6:06 p.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Controlling
Carina, you have no idea how much.
Well, maybe now you have a slight idea.
Do your homework.
Maya Bishop
President of Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I type "submissive" into Wikipedia.

Half an hour later, I'm a little dizzy and frankly shocked. Do I really want to get into all that? Is this what she does in the red room of pain? I stare at the screen, and a part of me, a wet part of me, that I wasn't aware of until very recently, has gotten all hot and bothered. Oh my God, some things are EXCITING. But are they for me? Oh my God... could I do it? I need space. I need to think.

For the first time in my life, I voluntarily go out for a run. I look for my disgusting sneakers, which I never wear, some sweatpants, and a T-shirt. I braid my hair, blush at the memories that come back to me, and turn on my iPod. I can't sit in front of that marvel of technology and keep watching or reading more disturbing material. I need to burn off some of this excessive, unnerving energy. Truth is, I feel like running to the Heathman Hotel and asking the control freak to fuck me. But it's five miles away, and I doubt I can run two, let alone five, and of course she might reject me, which would be very humiliating.

Maya’s POV

I find it impossible to concentrate on my work, waiting for the telltale beep announcing a new email from Carina. When it arrives, I check it immediately, but it's from Elena. And I'm surprised by my disappointment.

From: Elena Lincoln
Subject: The weekend
Date: May 23, 2022, 8:33 a.m.
To: Maya Bishop
Maya, you're working too hard. What's going on in Portland? Work?
ELENA LINCOLN
SLAVE
To the beauty that is you

I snort. She's been sending me constant emails that I really didn't want to answer, but I had to. We have business together, but should I tell her? If I do, she'll call immediately with questions, and I'm not ready to divulge my weekend experiences, not yet. I write her a quick email saying it's work, and go back to my reading.

Andrea calls me at nine, and we review my schedule. Since I'm in Portland, I ask her to set up a meeting with the president and assistant vice president of economic development at the University of Washington to discuss the soil science project we've established and its need for additional funding in the next fiscal year. She agrees to cancel all my social engagements for this week, and then connects me to my first video conference of the day.

At three in the afternoon, I am carefully studying some design sketches for the tablet that Barney has sent me when I am interrupted by a knock on my door. The interruption is annoying, but for a moment I hope it is Miss DeLuca. It is Taylor.

“Hello.” I hope my voice doesn’t betray my disappointment.

“I have your clothes, Miss. Bishop,” she says politely.

“Come in. Can you hang them in the closet? I’m waiting for my next conference call.”

“Of course, miss.” He hurries into the room, carrying a couple of garment bags and a canvas bag.
When he returns, I'm still waiting for my call.

“Taylor, I don't think I'm going to need you for the next couple of days. Why don't you take some time off to see your daughter?”

“That's very kind of you, miss but her mother and I...” He pauses, embarrassed.

“Ah. Is that so?” I ask.

He nods.

“Yes, miss. It will take some negotiating.”

“Okay. Would Wednesday be better?”

“I'll ask. Thank you, miss Bishop.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You've done enough, miss.”

He doesn't want to talk about this.

“Okay. I think I'm going to need a printer. Can you arrange that?”

“Yes, miss Bishop,” he nods. As he leaves, he closes the door gently behind him. I frown. I hope his ex-wife isn't causing him pain. I pay for his daughter's education as another incentive for him to stay working with me. He's a good man, and I don't want to lose him. The phone rings. It's my conference call with Hughes and Senator Blandino.

My last call ends at 5:20 p.m. I stretch out in my chair and think about how productive I've been today. It's amazing how much more I get done when I'm not in the office. Just a couple of reports to read and I'm done for the day. As I watch the dawn break through the window, my mind wanders to a certain potential submissive.

I wonder how she's been at Clayton's, attaching cable ties and measuring rope lengths. I hope that one day I'll get to use them on her. The thought conjures up images of her tied up in my playroom. I pause for a moment... then quickly send her an email. All this waiting, working, and sending emails is making me restless. I know how I'd like to release this pent-up energy, but I have to settle for running.

Show some restraint, Bishop. Before you can distract me again, I'm out the door. With the Foo Fighters blaring in my ears, I run toward the river. I've seen the Willamette at sunrise; now I want to see it at dusk. It's a beautiful afternoon: couples are walking along the riverbank, some are sitting on the grass, and a few tourists are cycling up and down the esplanade. I avoid them, the music ringing in my ears.

Miss DeLuca has questions. She's still in the game... this is not a “no.” Our email exchange has given me hope. As I run under the Hawthorne Bridge, I reflect on how comfortable she is with the written word, more so than when she is speaking. Perhaps this is her preferred means of expression. Well, she has been studying English Literature. I hope that by the time I return there will be another email, perhaps with questions, perhaps with a little more of her cheeky teasing.

Yes. That's something I hope for.

As I run down Main Street, I dare to hope that she will accept my proposal. The thought is exciting, even exhilarating, and I pick up my pace, running back toward the Heathman.

It's 8:15 p.m. when I sit down again in the dining room chair. I've eaten wild Oregon salmon for dinner, courtesy of Miss Dark Eyes again, and I still have half a glass of Sancerre to finish. My laptop is open and on, so any important emails should come through. I pick up the report I've printed out, about the abandoned industrial areas in Detroit.

“It had to be Detroit,” I complain aloud, and begin to read.

A few minutes later, I hear a beep.

It's an email with “Outraged College Student” written in the subject line. The title makes me sit up.

From: Carina DeLuca
Date: May 23, 2022, 8:33 p.m.
To: Maya Bishop
Subject: Outraged College Student
Well, I've seen enough.
It was nice meeting you.
Carina

Shit!

I read it again.

Damn it.

It's a “no.” I stare at the screen in disbelief.

That's it?
No discussion?
Nothing...

Just “it's been nice meeting you”?

What the hell?

I sit back down in my chair, stunned.

Nice?
Nice.
NICE.?!

She thought I was more than nice when her head was thrown back while she was coming.

Don't be so hasty, Bishop.
Maybe it's a joke?
A joke!

I pull the laptop toward me to type a reply.

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 23, 2011
To: Carina DeLuca.
Subject: NICE?

But as I stare at the screen, my fingers hovering over the keys, I can't think of what to say.

How could she dismiss me so easily?
Her first fuck.

Calm down, Bishop. What are your options? Maybe I should pay her a visit, just to make sure it's a “no.” Maybe I could persuade her to change her mind. I certainly don't know what to say in this email. Maybe she's been looking at some particularly raunchy sites. Why didn't I give her some books? I can't believe it. She needs to look me in the eye and say no.

Yes. I rub my chin as I formulate a plan, and moments later, I'm in my closet, pulling out my tie.

That tie.

This deal isn't a deal yet. Then I grab my jacket and a bottle of white wine from the mini bar. Damn, it's a Chardonnay... but it'll have to do. Taking my room key, I close the door and head for the elevator to pick up my car from the valet.

As I brake in the R8 outside the apartment she shares with Aurora, I wonder if this is a wise move. I never visited any of my previous submissives at their homes… they always came to me. I am pushing all the boundaries I had set for myself. I open the car door and get out. I'm uncomfortable; it's dangerous and too presumptuous of me to come here. Then again, I've already been here twice, albeit only for a few minutes. If she doesn't agree, I'll have to adjust her expectations. This won't happen again.

Go ahead, Bishop.

You're here because you think it's a “no.”

Carina’s POV

When I open the door, Gabriella is getting out of her car. She almost drops her bags when she sees me. Carina DeLuca in sneakers. I wave to her and don't stop so she won't ask me any questions. I really need to be alone for a while. With Snow Patrol playing in my ears, I step into the opal and aquamarine dusk.
I cross the park. What am I going to do? I want her, but on those terms? I really don't know. Maybe I should negotiate what I want. Go over that ridiculous contract line by line and say what I find acceptable and what I don't. I found out on the internet that it has no legal value. I'm sure she knows that.
I suppose it only serves to lay the foundations for the relationship. It details what I can expect from her and what she expects from me: my total submission. Am I ready to offer it to her? And am I capable?
One question gnaws at me: why is she like this? Because she was seduced when she was very young? I don't know. It's still a mystery.
I stop next to a large fir tree, rest my hands on my knees, and take a deep breath, filling my lungs with air. I feel good; it's cathartic. I feel my determination growing stronger. Yes. I have to tell her what I think is right and what I think is wrong. I have to email her what I think, and we'll discuss it on Wednesday.
I take a deep breath, as if to cleanse myself inside, and turn back towards home.

Gabriella has gone shopping for clothes, of course, for her vacation in Barbados. Mostly bikinis and matching sarongs. She'll look fantastic in all those outfits, but she still tries them all on and makes me sit down and tell her what I think. There aren't many ways to say, "You look fantastic, Gabriella." Even though she's thin, she has curves to die for. She doesn't do it on purpose, I know, but in the end I drag my sweaty, miserable ass to the bedroom with the
excuse of going to pack more boxes. Could I feel any less inadequate? I take the amazing wireless technology with me, turn on my laptop, and write to Maya.

I hit "Send" laughing at my mischief. Will she find it as funny? Oh, crap... probably not. Maya Bishop isn't known for her sense of humor. Although I know she has one, because I've experienced it. Maybe I went too far. I wait for her reply.

I wait and wait. I glance at the clock. Ten minutes have passed. To forget the anxiety that's creeping into my stomach, I start doing what I told Gabriella I would do: pack up the things in my room.
I start by putting my books in a box. By nine o'clock, I still haven't heard from him. Maybe he's gone out. In a bad mood, I pout, put on my iPod headphones,
listen to Snow Patrol, and sit at my desk to reread the contract and write down my observations and comments.

I don't know why I look up, maybe I caught a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, I don't know, but when I do, Maya is standing in my doorway staring at me. She's wearing her tight gray pants and a T-shirt, and she's gently jingling her car keys. I take off my headphones and freeze. Damn it!

"Good evening, Carina," she says in a cold tone with a cautious, impenetrable expression.

I am speechless. Damn Gabriella, she let her in without telling me. For a second, I realize that I look like a mess, all sweaty and unwashed, and she looks gorgeous, with tight pants that highlight her perfect ass, and to top it all off, she's in my room.

"I thought your email deserved a personal response," she explains in a dry tone.

I open my mouth and close it again, twice. This really is a joke. It never occurred to me that she would drop everything to come here.

"May I sit down?" she asks, now with amused eyes.

Thank God... Maybe she found the joke funny.
I nod. My ability to speak is still nowhere to be found. Maya Bishop is sitting on my bed...

"I was wondering what your room would be like," she says.

I look around, wondering where I can escape to. No, there's still nothing but the door and the window. My room is functional but cozy: a few white wicker furniture and a white iron double bed with a patchwork quilt that my mother made when she was into home crafts. It's sky blue and cream.

"It's very serene and peaceful," she murmurs.

Not right now... not with you here.
Finally, my brain stem regains its determination. I breathe.

"How...?"

She smiles at me.

"I'm still at the Heathman."

I already knew that.

"Would you like something to drink?"

I have to say that good manners always prevail.

"No, thank you, Carina."

She flashes a dazzling half-smile with her head slightly tilted.

Well, I'm probably the one who needs a drink.

"So, it's been nice meeting you..."

Damn, is she offended? I look at my fingers. Let's see how I get out of this. If I tell her it was just a joke, I don't think she'll like it very much.

"I thought you'd reply by email," I say in a very low, pathetic voice.

"Are you biting your lip on purpose?" she asks me very seriously.

I blink, open my mouth, and release my lip.

"I wasn't aware I was biting it," I murmur.

My heart is beating very fast. I feel the tension, that exquisite static electricity that fills the space. She is sitting very close to me, her impenetrable blue eyes, her elbows resting on her knees and her legs apart. She leans over, slowly undoes one of my braids and separates my hair with her fingers. My breath catches and I can't move. I watch, mesmerized, as her hand moves to the other braid, pulling the elastic and undoing the braid with her long, skilled fingers.

"I see you've decided to do a little exercise," she says in a low, melodious voice, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Why, Carina?"

She circles my ear with her fingers and very gently, rhythmically, pulls my earlobe. It's very exciting.

"I needed time to think," I whisper.

I feel like a deer in the headlights, like a moth to a flame, like a bird facing a snake... and she knows exactly what she's doing.

"Think about what, Carina?"

"About you."

"And you've decided it's been nice to meet me?”

Shit. I blush.

Her lips curve into a slight smile and I look at her mouth.

"Well, I thought I should come by to remind you how nice it was to meet you."

Oh my God. I stare at her open-mouthed, and her fingers move from my ear to my chin.

"What do you think, Miss DeLuca?"

Her bright eyes exude a defiant expression. Her lips are parted. She is waiting, alert to attack. Desire—sharp, liquid, and provocative— burns deep in my belly. I step forward and lunge toward her. Suddenly she moves, I have no idea how, and in the blink of an eye I'm on the bed, pinned beneath her, my hands spread and pinned above my head, her free hand cupping my face and her mouth seeking mine.
She thrusts her tongue into my mouth, claiming me and possessing me, and I revel in her strength. I feel it all over my body. She wants me, and it stirs strange and exquisite sensations inside me. Not Gabriella, in her tiny bikinis, nor one of the fifteen, nor the wicked Mrs. Robinson. Me. This beautiful woman wants me
me. The goddess inside me shines so brightly that she could light up all of Portland. She stops kissing me. I open my eyes and see her staring at me.

"Do you trust me?" she asks.

I nod with my eyes wide open, my heart pounding in my ribs and blood thundering through my body.
She reaches into her pants pocket and pulls out her gray silk tie... the gray tie that leaves little marks on my skin. She quickly straddles me straddle me and ties my wrists, but this time she ties the other end of the tie to a bar on the white iron headboard. She pulls on the knot to make sure it's secure. I'm not going anywhere. I'm tied to my bed, and very excited.
She gets up and stands next to the bed, looking at me with eyes clouded with desire. Her gaze is one of triumph and relief at the same time.

"Better this way," she murmurs.

She flashes a mischievous smile of superiority. She leans down and starts to untie one of my shoes. Oh, no... no... not my feet. I just ran.

"No," I protest and kick to get her to let go.
She stops.

"If you struggle, I'll tie your feet too, Carina. If you make the slightest noise, I'll gag you. Don't open your mouth. Gabriella is probably out there listening right now.

Gag me! Gabriella! I shut up.

She takes off my sneakers and socks and very slowly pulls down my sweatpants. Oh... what kind of panties am I wearing? She lifts me up, removes the bedspread and comforter from and lays me face up on the sheets.

"Let's see." She slowly runs her tongue over her full lower lip. "You're biting your lip, Carina. You know the effect it has on me."

She presses her long index finger against my mouth as a warning.

My God. I can barely contain myself, I'm helpless, lying there, watching her move calmly around my room. She's an intoxicating Aphrodite. She
She slowly takes off her shoes and socks, unbuttons her pants, and removes her shirt.

"I think you've seen enough."

She laughs mischievously. She sits back on top of me, straddling me, and lifts my T-shirt. I think she's going to take it off, but she rolls it up to my neck and then pulls it up so that my mouth and nose are exposed, but my eyes are covered. And because it's rolled up so tightly, I can't see anything.

"Mmm," she whispers contentedly. "This is getting better and better. I'm going to have a drink."

She leans over, kisses me softly on the lips, and I no longer feel her weight. I hear the slight squeak of the bedroom door. Have a drink. Where? Here? In Portland? In Seattle? I strain my ears. I hear muffled noises and know she's talking to Gabriella... Oh, no... She's practically naked. What is Gabriella going to say? I hear a sharp bang. What's that? She comes back, the door creaks again, I hear her footsteps across the room and the sound of ice clinking in a glass. What is she drinking? She closes the door and I hear her approaching, taking off her pants, which fall to the floor. I know she's naked. And she straddles me again.

"Are you thirsty, Carina?" she asks me mockingly.

"Yes," I say, because suddenly my mouth is dry.

I hear the ice clinking in the glass. She leans over and, as she kisses me, she pours a delicious, invigorating liquid into my mouth. It's white wine. I wasn't expecting it, and it's very exciting, even though it's ice cold, and Maya's lips are cold too.

"More?" she asks me in a whisper.

I nod. It tastes even better because it comes from her mouth. She leans in and I take another sip from her lips... Oh my God.

"Let's not overdo it. We know your alcohol tolerance is limited, Carina."

I can't help but laugh, and she leans down and gives me another delicious sip. She moves, positioning herself next to me, and I feel her hardness on my hip. Oh, I want her inside
me.

"Do you like this?" she asks me, and I notice a certain threatening tone in her voice.

I tense up. She moves the glass again, kisses me, and, along with the wine, drops a piece of ice into my mouth. Very slowly, she begins to descend with her lips from my neck, passing over my breasts, to my torso and belly. She puts a piece of ice in my belly button, where a small pool of very cold wine forms, causing a fire that spreads to the depths of my belly. Wow.

"Now you have to stay still," she whispers. "If you move, you'll spill wine all over the bed, Carina."

My hips flex automatically.

"Oh, no. If you spill the wine, I'll punish you, Miss DeLuca."

I moan, trying to control myself and desperately fighting the urge to move my hips. Oh, no... please.
She slides the cups of my bra down with one finger, leaving my breasts exposed and vulnerable. She leans down, kisses and pulls my nipples with her cold, icy lips. I fight against my body, which tries to respond by arching.

"Do you like this?" she asks, pulling on a nipple.
I hear the ice clinking again, and then I feel it around my right nipple, while she pulls on my left nipple with her lips. I moan and struggle not to move. It's a sweet, desperate torture.

"If you spill the wine, I won't let you come."

"Oh... please... Maya... ma'am... please."

She's driving me crazy. I can hear her smile.
The ice on my nipple is melting. I'm so hot... hot, cold, and dying of desire. I want her inside me. Now.
She slides her icy fingers very slowly across my belly. My skin is hypersensitive, so my hips flex and the liquid from my navel, now less cold, drips down my stomach. Maya moves quickly and licks it, kisses me, bites me gently, sucks me.

"Dear Carina, you've moved. What am I going to do with you?"

I gasp loudly. The only thing I can focus on is her voice and her touch. Nothing else is real. Nothing else matters. My radar registers nothing else. She slides her fingers inside my panties and I am relieved to hear her let out a deep sigh.

"Oh, beautiful," she murmurs.
And she slips two fingers inside me.
I stifle a cry.

"You're ready for me so soon..." she says.
She moves her tempting fingers slowly around my sex, and I push toward her, raising my hips.

"You're greedy," she scolds me softly.

She traces circles around my clit with her thumb and then presses down on it.

I gasp and my body jerks under her expert fingers. She reaches out and pulls my T-shirt away from my eyes so I can see her. The dim light from the lamp makes me blink. I want to touch her.

"I want to touch you," I say.

"I know," she murmurs.
She leans down and kisses me while continuing to move her fingers rhythmically inside me, tracing circles and pressing with her thumb. With her other hand, she gathers my hair up and holds my head so I can't move it. She replicates the movement of her fingers with her tongue. My legs start to feel stiff from pushing so hard against her hand. She pulls it away, and I return to the edge of the abyss. She repeats this over and over. It's so frustrating... Oh, please, Maya, I scream inside.

"This is your punishment, so close and suddenly so far away. Do you find this pleasant?" she whispers in my ear.

Exhausted, I whimper and pull at my bound arms. I am helpless, lost in erotic torture.

"Please," I beg.

Finally, she takes pity on me.

"How do you want me to fuck you, Carina?"

Oh... my body begins to tremble and then goes still again.

"Please."

"What do you want, Carina?"

"You... now," I cry out.

"Tell me how you want me to fuck you. There are endless ways," she whispers in my ear.

She kneels between my legs and, very slowly, removes my panties without taking her bright eyes off me. I look at her, fascinated, stunned. Her dick is hard; she's as excited as I am.

"Do you like this?" she asks, caressing herself.

"I was joking," I whimper.

Please fuck me, Maya.

She raises her eyebrows.

"A joke?" she asks in a threateningly low voice.

"Yes. Please, Maya," I beg her.

"And now you're laughing?"

"No," I whimper.

The sexual tension is about to make me explode. She looks at me for a moment, assessing my desire, and suddenly grabs me and turns me around. It takes me by surprise, and since my hands are tied, I have to support myself on my elbows. She pushes my knees up to lift my ass and gives me a hard spank. Before I can react, she grabs a condom and.. she penetrates me. I scream, from the spanking and her sudden thrust, and I cum immediately, collapsing beneath her as she continues to thrust into me exquisitely. She doesn't stop. I'm shattered. I can't take it anymore... and she pushes her dick in again and again... and I feel myself flooding again... it can't be... no...

"Come on, Carina, again," she growls through clenched teeth.

And as incredible as it may seem, my body responds, convulsing, and I climax again, screaming her name. I break into a thousand pieces again, and Maya stops, turns me over, and rides me. She thrusts into me a few times, filling us with pleasure, and I cum again. She thrusts into me one more time and lets herself go too, and I feel it. She falls on top of me, panting.

"Did you like it?" she asks me through clenched teeth.

Oh my God. I'm lying on the bed, devastated, panting with my eyes closed. She gets up removes the condom and starts to get dressed. When she's finished, she comes back to the bed, unties me, and takes off my shirt. I flex my fingers and rub my wrists, smiling when I see the pattern of the fabric imprinted on my skin. I adjust my bra while she pulls the quilt and comforter over me. I look at her dazedly and she smiles back at me.

"That was really nice," I whisper, smiling shyly.

"There you go again with that little word.

"Don't you like me saying it?"

"No, it has nothing to do with me."

"Well... I don't know... it seems to have a beneficial effect on you."

"Am I a beneficial effect? Is that what I am now? Could you hurt my self-esteem any more, Miss DeLuca?"

"I don't think you have any self-esteem issues."

But I'm aware that I say this without conviction. Something flashes through my mind, a fleeting idea, but it escapes me before I can grasp it.

"Do you think so?" she asks me in a friendly tone.
She's lying next to me, fully clothed, her head resting on her elbow, and I'm wearing only my bra.

"Why don't you like being touched?"
"Because I don't." She leans over me and kisses me softly on the forehead. "So that email was what you call a joke."

I smile apologetically and shrug.

"I see. So you're still considering my proposal..."

"Your indecent proposal... Yes, I'm considering it. But I have some things to discuss."

She smiles at me with relief.

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't have anything to say."

"I was going to send them to you by mail, but you interrupted me.

"Coitus interruptus."

"See? I knew you had a sense of humor hidden somewhere," I say, smiling.

"It's not that funny, Carina. I thought you were telling me no, that you didn't even want to discuss it."

She remains silent.

"I don't know yet. I haven't decided anything. Are you going to put a collar on me?"

She raises her eyebrows.

"You've been doing your research. I don't know, Carina. I've never put a collar on anyone before."

Oh... Should I be surprised? I know so little about the sessions... I don't know.

"Have you been collared?" I ask in a whisper.

"Yes."

"Mrs. Robinson?"

"Mrs. Robinson!"

She laughs out loud, looking young and carefree, her head thrown back. Her laughter is contagious.
I smile at her.

"I'll tell her what you call her. She'll love it."

"Are you still in touch with her?" I ask, unable to hide my fear.

"Yes," she replies very seriously.

Oh... Suddenly, part of me goes crazy with jealousy. The feeling is so strong that it disturbs me.

"I see," I say tensely. "So you have someone to talk to about your alternative lifestyle, but I don't." She frowns.

"I don't think I've ever thought of it that way. Mrs. Robinson was part of this lifestyle. I told you she's a good friend now. If you want, I can introduce you to one of my ex-submissives. You could talk to her."
What? Is she saying that on purpose to make me angry?

"Is this what you call a joke?"

"No, Carina," she replies, perplexed.

"No... I'll manage on my own, thank you very much," I reply sharply, pulling the quilt up to my chin.
She looks at me, lost, surprised.

"Carina, no..." She doesn't know what to say. That's new, I think. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm not offended. I'm dismayed."

"Dismayed?"

"I don't want to talk to any of your ex-girlfriends... or slaves... or submissives... whatever you call them."

"Carina DeLuca, are you jealous?" I blush.

"Are you staying?"

"I have a meeting at the Heathman first thing tomorrow morning. Besides, I already told you that I don't sleep with my girlfriends, or slaves, or submissives, or anyone else. Friday and Saturday were an exception. It won't happen again."
I hear the firm determination behind her sweet voice.

I purse my lips.

"Well, I'm tired."

"Are you kicking me out?"

She raises her eyebrows, puzzled and somewhat distressed.

"Yes."

"Well, that's something new." She looks at me questioningly. "Don't you want to discuss anything? About the contract."

"No," I reply grumpily.

"Oh, how I'd love to give you a good beating. You'd feel much better, and so would I."

"You can't say things like that... I haven't signed anything yet."

"But dreaming is human, Carina." She leans over and grabs my chin. "See you on Wednesday?" she murmurs.

She kisses me quickly on the lips.

"See you on Wednesday," I reply. "Wait, I'll go out with you. Give me a minute."

I sit up, grab my T-shirt, and push her to get up from the bed. She does so reluctantly.

"Pass me my sweatpants, please."
She picks them up off the floor and hands them to me.

"Yes, ma'am."

She tries to hide her smile, but fails.

I glare at her as I put on my pants. My hair is a mess, and I know that after she leaves, I'll have to face the holy inquisitor Gabriella. I grab a hair tie, head for the door, and open it to see if Gabriella is there. She's not in the dining room. I think I hear her talking on the phone in her room. Maya follows me. During the short walk between my room and the front door, my thoughts and feelings flow and transform. I'm no longer angry with her. Suddenly, I feel unbearably shy. I don't want her to leave. For the first time, I wish she were normal. I wish we could have a normal relationship that didn't require a ten-page agreement, spankings, and carabiners on the ceiling of her red room.

I open the door for her and look at my hands. It's the first time I've brought someone home, and I think it's been great. But now I feel like a vessel, like an empty glass that is filled at will. My subconscious shakes its head. You wanted to run to the Heathman in search of sex... and they brought it home to you. She crosses her arms and stamps her foot, as if wondering what I'm complaining about. Maya stops by the door, grabs my chin, and forces me to look at her. She wrinkles her forehead.

"Are you okay?" she asks, stroking my chin with her thumb.

"Yes," I reply, although the truth is I'm not so sure.
I feel a paradigm shift. I know that if I accept, it will hurt me. She can't, isn't interested, or doesn't want to offer me anything more... but I want more. Much more.

The pang of jealousy I felt a moment ago tells me that my feelings for her are deeper than I have admitted to myself.

"See you on Wednesday," she says.

She leans in and kisses me tenderly. But as she's kissing me, something changes. Her lips press imperiously against mine. She slides one hand from my chin to the side of my face, and with the other she holds my other cheek. Her breathing quickens. She leans toward me and kisses me more deeply. I take her by the arms. I want to run my hands through her hair, but I resist because I know she wouldn't like it. She presses her forehead against mine with her eyes closed.

"Carina," she whispers in a broken voice, "what are you doing to me?

"I could say the same thing to you," I whisper back.
She takes a deep breath, kisses me on the forehead, and leaves. She walks purposefully toward the car. As she opens the door, she looks up and gives me a captivating smile. Completely dazzled, I return a slight smile and think again of Icarus flying too close to the sun. I close the front door as she gets into her sports car. I feel an irresistible urge to cry. A sad and lonely melancholy weighs on my heart. I go back to my room, close the door, and lean against it, trying to rationalize my feelings, but I can't. I let myself fall to the floor, cover my face with my hands, and start to cry.

Gabriella knocks softly on the door.

"Carina?" she whispers.

I open the door. She looks at me and hugs me.

"What's wrong? What did that repulsive, good-looking bitch do to you?"

"Nothing I didn't want her to do, Gabriella."

She leads me to the bed and we sit down.

"Your hair looks like you just had terrible sex."

Even though I'm heartbroken, I laugh.

"It was good sex, not awful at all."

Gabriella smiles.

"Better. Why are you crying? You never cry."

She picks up the brush from the nightstand, sits down next to me, and begins to slowly untangle the knots in my hair.

"Didn't you tell me you were meeting her on Wednesday?"

"Yes, that's what we agreed."

"Then why did she come by today?"

"Because I sent her an email."

"Asking her to come by?"

“No, telling her I didn't want to see her again.”

"And then she show up here? Carina, that's great.

"Actually, it was a joke."

“Wow, now I really don't understand anything.”

I gather my patience and explain what my email was about without going into details.

"You thought she would reply by email."

"Yes."

"But what you did was show up here."

"Yes."

"She must have told you she's crazy about you."

I frown. Maya crazy about me? Hardly. She's just looking for a new toy, a new, suitable toy to sleep with and do unspeakable things to. My heart shrinks and hurts. That's the truth.

"She came here to fuck me, that's all."

"Who said romance was dead?" she murmurs in horror.

I've shocked Gabriella. I didn't think that was possible. I shrug apologetically.

"She uses sex as a weapon."

"Does she fuck you to subdue you?"

She shakes her head in dismay. I blink and feel myself blushing. Oh... you've hit the nail on the head, Gabriella, you're going to win the Pulitzer.

"Carina, I don't understand. And you let her make love to you?"

"No, Gabriella, we don't make love... we fuck... like Maya says. She’s not interested in love."

"I knew there was something strange about her. She has commitment issues."

I nod, as if I agree, but inside I sigh. Oh, Gabriella... I wish I could tell you everything about this strange, sad, and twisted girl, and I wish you could tell me to forget her, to stop being an idiot.

"I'm afraid the situation is quite overwhelming," I murmur.

That's a huge understatement.

Not wanting to talk about Maya anymore, I ask her about Jack. Just mentioning his name changes Gabriella's attitude completely. Her face lights up
and smiles at me.

"He's coming over early on Saturday to help us load up.”

She clutches the brush tightly to her chest—wow, she's really into him—and I feel a vague, familiar pang of envy.

I turn to her and hug her.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Your father called when you were... well, busy. It seems Bob had a little accident, so he and your mother won't be able to come to graduation. But your father will be here on Thursday. He wants you to call him."

"Wow... My mother didn't call to tell me. Is Bob okay?"

"Yes. Call her tomorrow. It's late now."

"Thanks, Gabriella. I'm fine now. I'll call Ray tomorrow, too. I think I'm going to bed."

She smiles, but her eyes crinkle with concern.
When she's gone, I sit down, reread the contract, and take notes. Once I'm done, I turn on my computer, ready to reply to her.

In my inbox is an email from Maya.

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 23, 2022, 11:16 p.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Tonight
Miss DeLuca:
I eagerly await your notes on the contract.
In the meantime, sleep well, beautiful.
Maya Bishop
President, Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

From: Carina Bishop
Date: May 24, 2022, 12:02 a.m.
To: Maya Bishop
Subject: Objections
Dear Miss Bishop:
Here is my list of objections. I hope we can discuss them calmly over dinner on Wednesday.
The numbers refer to the clauses:
2: I am not at all convinced that this is exclusively for MY benefit, that is, for me to explore my sensuality and my limits. I am sure that I would not need a ten-page contract for that. Surely it is for YOUR benefit.
4: As you know, I have only had sex with you. I don't take drugs and I have never had a transfusion. I am definitely more than healthy. What about you?
8: I can stop at any time if I think you're not sticking to the agreed limits. Okay, that sounds fine to me.
9: Obey you in everything? Accept your discipline without question? We need to talk about this.
11: One-month trial period, not three.
12: I can't commit to every weekend. I have my own life, and I'm going to keep it. Maybe three out of four?
15.2: Use my body as you see fit, in sex or in any other area... Please define "in any other area."
15.5: The entire clause on discipline in general. I'm not sure I want to be spanked, whipped, or physically punished. I'm sure this violates
clauses 2-5. And besides, that "for any other reason" is just mean... and you told me you weren't a sadist.
15.10: As if lending myself to someone could ever be an option. But I'm glad you make that clear.
15.14: I'll comment on the rules later.
15.21: Discipline: see clause 15.5 above.
15.22: Can't I look you in the eyes? Why?
15.24: Why can't I touch you?
Rules:
Sleep: I will accept six hours.
Food: I will not eat what you put on a list. Either the food list is removed, or I break the contract.
Clothes: OK, as long as I only have to wear your clothes when I'm with you.
Exercise: We agreed on three hours, but keep putting four.
Tolerable limits:
Do we have to go through all this? I don't want fisting of any kind. What is suspension? Genital clamps... you must be joking.
Could you tell me what your plans are for Wednesday? I work until five in the afternoon.
Good night.
Carina

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 24, 2022, 12:07 a.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Objections
Ms. DeLuca:
That's a very long list. Why are you still awake?
Maya Bishop
President, Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

From: Carina DeLuca
Date: May 24, 2022 12:10 a.m.
To: Maya Bishop
Subject: Burning my eyebrows
Dear Ms. Bishop:
If I remember correctly, I was working on this list when a control freak interrupted me and took me to bed.
Good night.
Carina

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 24, 2022, 12:12 a.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Stop burning your eyebrows
CARINA, GO TO BED.
Maya Bishop
Control freak and president of Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

Wow... in capital letters, as if she were yelling at me. I turn off the computer. How can she intimidate me from eight kilometers away? Still sad, I get into bed and immediately fall into a deep, though restless, sleep.

Maya’s POV

A few minutes pass, and once I am convinced that she has gone to sleep, persuaded by my capital letters, I head to my room. I take my laptop with me in case she responds again. Once I'm in bed, I grab my book and read. After half an hour, I give up. I can't concentrate; my mind keeps wandering back to Carina, how she was this afternoon, and her email.
I have to remind her what I expect from our relationship. I don't want her to get the wrong impression. I've strayed too far from my goal.

“Are you coming to help Carina move?” Aurora's words remind me that unrealistic expectations have been created.

Maybe I could help them move?
No. Stop now, Bishop.

Opening my laptop, I read the email titled “Objections Again.” I need to manage her expectations and try to find the right words to express how I feel.

Finally, I find inspiration.

From: Maya Bishop
Date: May 24, 2022, 1:27 a.m.
To: Carina DeLuca
Subject: Your objections
Dear Ms. DeLuca:
After reviewing your objections in more detail, I would like to remind you of the definition of submissive.
submissive: adjective
1. inclined or willing to submit; humbly obedient: submissive servants.
2. indicating submission: a submissive response.
Origin: 1580-1590; to submit, submission
Synonyms: 1. obedient, compliant, humble. 2. passive, resigned, patient, docile, restrained. Antonyms: 1. rebellious, disobedient.
Please keep this in mind when we meet on Wednesday.

Maya Bishop
President of Bishop Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

That's all. I hope you find it entertaining, but that's just my point of view.
With that thought, I turn off my bedside lamp and sleep and dream.

His name is Jack. He is bigger than me and he is a guy. He laughs. And smiles. And screams. And talks all the time. He talks to Mom and Dad all the time. He's my brother. Why don't you talk? Jack says over and over and over again. Are you stupid? Jack says over and over and over again. I jump on him and hit his face over and over and over again. He cries. He cries a lot. I don't cry. I never cry. Mom is mad at me. I have to sit on the bottom step. I have to sit there longer. But Jack never asks me why I don't talk anymore. If I make my hand into a fist, he runs away. Jack is afraid of me. He knows I'm a monster.

Notes:

Saw the videos and photos from Brazil's con and I Love it! Hope y'all have a great day.

Thank you so much for support and sweet words, means a lot and I'm doing my best now and with the story too.

Series this work belongs to:

Part 1 of 50 Shades of Bishop

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Ethereal Carina (Guest) on Chapter 1 Thu 08 May 2025 10:42PM UTC

OMG. Finally! Someone did it. I'm here for this. I've been wanting this kind of story for Marina.

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1. ILoveSpampi on Chapter 1 Thu 08 May 2025 10:51PM UTC
  
  Hey! Thank you, yeah...I had to do it, keep an eye out for the next updates.
  
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2. 1. jwct123 on Chapter 1 Thu 10 Jul 2025 03:12AM UTC
    
    do you take request.
    
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Minna Huang (Guest) on Chapter 1 Thu 08 May 2025 11:31PM UTC

Yes, I am so looking forward to this one!! 👏🏼

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Clarams on Chapter 1 Sat 10 May 2025 07:48AM UTC

No puedo creer que vayas a hacer esto!!!! Ahhhh ya quiero ver como lo desarrollas, es obvio que conocemos los libros pero adaptarlo a ellas wow no puedo esperar a leerlo. Estaré suscrita para las actualizaciones

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Lilhica on Chapter 1 Sat 10 May 2025 06:57PM UTC

👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾🔥🔥🔥🔥

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Lili64 on Chapter 1 Sat 10 May 2025 07:12PM UTC

Bueno, esto me gustó.. así que estoy en este barco..!!! ❤️

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zack_hk on Chapter 1 Wed 14 May 2025 02:30PM UTC

wow 😍

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Hortegia27 (Guest) on Chapter 1 Wed 21 May 2025 09:49AM UTC

Yes! Finally someone did a Marina version of this. Can't wait to read how this story develops. I really hope you post updates frequently :)

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Wuormos on Chapter 1 Fri 23 May 2025 04:02AM UTC

Interesting.....I need more of that

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Guest (Guest) on Chapter 1 Fri 23 May 2025 04:32AM UTC

Why is Maya addressed as Mrs Bishop? Is she married?

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1. ILoveSpampi on Chapter 1 Fri 23 May 2025 04:36AM UTC
  
  Nope, as I'm adapting it I'm basing it on what the character is called. From my perspective it gives her more strength and power, is that a problem? I accept suggestions.
  
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2. 1. Guest (Guest) on Chapter 1 Fri 23 May 2025 06:44AM UTC
    
    Its just that Mrs is used to address a married woman. And it kinda sounds like Maya’s old. It doesn’t convey power like Mr. Grey would.
    Also suggest to add Maya Bishop/Carina DeLuca tag, so the fic shows up on more filters.
    
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JackAnne on Chapter 1 Sun 25 May 2025 05:34AM UTC

That's so good 💯

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Suggie02 on Chapter 1 Wed 04 Jun 2025 01:29PM UTC

FINALLY! I have just found this & I can’t wait to ready more. thank you for this😍

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Giusy (Guest) on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Jun 2025 03:32PM UTC

Ciao ! Ma quando continui questa storia?! Ti prego 🥺

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Minna Huang (Guest) on Chapter 2 Sun 11 May 2025 06:53AM UTC

Nice!!👏🏼👍🏼❤️

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Clarams on Chapter 2 Sun 11 May 2025 09:20AM UTC

Me encanta ya quiero leer más, a mi me da igual si quieres dejar los nombres de los padres igual, porque de todos modos no es una historia ceñida al canon, lo único que noté Y eso porque a veces suelo ser demasiado observadora es que las chicas que trabajan en la empresa de Maya todas son morenas y en la historia original de 50 sombras en teoría o eso es lo que yo creía que sus empleados Eran todas rubias precisamente para evitar que sintiera atracción por alguna de ellas puesto que Grey solo le gustan morenas. Entonces me haría un poco más de sentido que en el caso de Maya tuviera empleadas rubias también. También por ahí no sé si tenga algo que ver que mi idioma original no es el inglés pero me parece que describe sacarina un poco como rubia y eso me pareció un poco raro y A maya la describes en el episodio 1 como una mujer alta Pero insisto podría ser que no esté interpretando correctamente el idioma. Saludos. no puedo esperar para vivir más.

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1. ILoveSpampi on Chapter 2 Sun 11 May 2025 11:27AM UTC
  
  Hello! no, you are right. It was my mistake, I fixed it. In the book Grey likes blondes, here as it's adapted, Maya likes brunettes, it was my mistake, I didn't notice, I'll see better the next time and about the height, yes, Maya will be a little bit taller as it's adapted. Thanks for your observation
  
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2. 1. Clarams on Chapter 2 Mon 12 May 2025 08:05AM UTC
    
    Hola No de hecho a Grey le gustan morenas todas sus sumisas fueron morenas y en parte por eso también Supongo que llamó su atención Anastasia. Y sus empleadas todas eran rubias como te mencionaba Supongo que eran rubias para evitar que a él lo distrajeron o le llegaron a gustar sexualmente. Entonces para mí tendría más sentido que las empleadas de Maya Igualmente fueran rubias si es que en tu ficción Maya tuviera un tipo que fueran morenas tal como Karina. Pero si en tu historia Maya no tiene un tipo da igual si las empleadas son rubias o morenas o pelirrojas. Gracias por responder y estoy aquí a la espera del siguiente capítulo. Saludos
    
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  2. 1. ILoveSpampi on Chapter 2 Mon 12 May 2025 12:47PM UTC
      
      You have a point, I honestly had forgotten that detail in the book, Thank you.
      
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Lili64 on Chapter 2 Sun 11 May 2025 03:39PM UTC

Me encantó 🫶🏻❤️

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Clarams on Chapter 3 Thu 15 May 2025 11:50PM UTC

Dios mio, es tan loco que conozco la historia perfectamente y aun así estoy ansiosa por leer la adaptación, me han cruzado tantas cosas por la cabeza, no puedo esperar jajajaja

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Lili64 on Chapter 3 Fri 16 May 2025 12:07AM UTC

Tremenda Maya...!! Pone nerviosa a Carina.. !!! Siii 🫶🏻❤️

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Lili64 on Chapter 4 Fri 16 May 2025 05:03AM UTC

Mmmmm 👀🤔🔥🥵❤️

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Clarams on Chapter 4 Fri 16 May 2025 09:23AM UTC

No es suficiente chica, necesito más avance 🤣🤣🤣🤣

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zack_hk on Chapter 4 Sat 17 May 2025 01:23PM UTC

wow wow wow cant wait to see Carina on Louboutins Maya gave her
this Maya is sooooooo attention 😍

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