Leticia sat very quietly and very still for a long time while I prowled back and forth in the shadows. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and her eyes were narrowed like she was thinking hard. There was just the sound of my rhythmic steps on the thick carpet. Finally, she sat forward at the table and I stopped pacing and tried to read her expression from across the space that separated us.
“Jonah, I accept everything about you,” Leticia said. “I understand that for you a relationship that becomes loving also comes with risks. You know how I feel about you – I can’t be any clearer – and I know that it’s going to be difficult for you to allow yourself the opportunity to love. And I know you can’t force something like that,” she shook her head slowly. “I can’t make you love me, I can only ask that you give yourself the chance to fall in love with me.”
I stopped in front of the desk and leaned forward with my hands on the edges of the polished wood, thrusting my face forward so that Leticia could not mistake the significance of the moment, or misread the message in my eyes.
“You accept all that?”
Leticia nodded. She matched my gaze with the same fire of intensity. “I am prepared to risk loving you and losing you for the chance to be loved by you.”
I nodded, satisfied. “You know this relationship can only ever end one way – in ultimate sadness?”
“Jonah, it is my love to give,” Leticia said softly, but with passion and determination in her voice. “I give it to you gladly.”
I nodded again, this time more slowly, and then glanced around the room, taking in each piece of furniture, and remembering, for an instant, some of the moments I had shared here with Caroline and other women.
“You realize, Leticia, that my relationships in the past have all been heated, passionate, explosive things? The relationship I’m proposing is a sexual and emotional one. I would expect you to submit to me in the bedroom.”
Leticia didn’t flinch, and I narrowed my eyes, seeing her suddenly in a different light. There was steel in her now that I hadn’t noticed when we had met and she had interviewed me.
The girl was becoming a woman.
Leticia inclined her head. “I want it all, Jonah. I want a physical relationship with you and I am willing to submit – I’m willing to step into your world of BDSM – but only in the bedroom. I do not want to live my life as your submissive. I don’t know if that is something I am even capable of. But I do know that if you truly want the chance to love me then it must be on equal terms out of the bedroom. It must be as a man and a woman, not as a Master and his submissive.”
I pushed myself away from the desk, clasped my hands behind my back and began to pace again. My relationship with Caroline had been a lifestyle choice. What Leticia was willing to accept was something less than that – the part-time relationship that so many couples explored in order to keep balance in their lives.
Before I had met and lived with Caroline all of my BDSM relationships had been purely physical, and when Caroline moved in with me the emotional bond we formed had been based on our physical attraction – my role as her Master and her role as my submissive had never wavered, never been interrupted with the emotional and romantic interludes of couples outside of the lifestyle.
I nodded slowly, my expression like stone. “Very well,” I agreed.
Leticia’s expression softened. She sat back in the chair like a great weight had been lifted from her – as though she was suddenly relieved. She shook her head and there was a bemused look on her face.
“You know, this isn’t how most couples begin a relationship,” she said and there was the first hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. “Most men and women don’t sit in a room like this and negotiate. Normally the attraction is much more organic.” Her hands fluttered like butterflies for an instant. “Normally couples form an attraction and then the relationship slowly develops over time.”
I smiled too, but without any humor. “All of my relationships have started this way,” I said. “For me, it’s perfectly normal to discuss the nature of the relationship, what I expect of the woman, and what the woman expects of me, in advance. Only once we are clear on the roles can a BDSM relationship begin to develop.”
I refilled the glass with more whisky and then paused as a realization came to me. “Besides,” I said, “You and I have already felt an attraction, and we have already become close – that happened during those nights when you interviewed me. This is merely the next logical step, Leticia. This is about letting that attraction we already feel off the leash.”
Leticia did not look convinced. “Jonah, are you always this practical? Is everything for you based on logic?”
“Yes,” I said. “Of course.”
Leticia sipped at her wine – a distraction to give her a moment to think. She shot a sharp speculative glance at me, and then smiled slyly. “Well, if you ever really want to know love, you are going to have to reason less and feel more,” Leticia said graciously, but there was an edge of undercurrent in her tone. “You are going to have to be inspired by feelings and emotions because that’s what love is. It’s not something you can control.”
I frowned and thought about that for a moment. The rigid rules I had lived my life by had made me decisive and devoid of emotion. Everything had been a judgment – a balance of advantages and disadvantages leading to a clear conclusion.
I wasn’t sure I was capable of feeling strong enough to make them unconditional.
I sipped at the whisky reflectively until Leticia finally pushed back her chair and stood. “I’m willing to submit to you, Jonah. I’m willing to explore a physical relationship as your submissive…” her voice trailed away and she cast a glance around the room. “But not here,” she shook her head. “I don’t ever want you to bring me to this room to teach me submission. It’s full of too many memories of too many other women. I don’t want you to see me that way. I want us to start afresh – I want the memories that will come to be ours and only ours – not mingled with those women from your past.”
I nodded. “That sounds reasonable,” I said. “I agree.”
Leticia raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. “So what happens now?”
I didn’t need to think about the answer. “Now, I kiss you, and then I want you to phone your editor at the newspaper and tell him you are taking three months leave.”
Leticia started to blush, and then all that color fluttered away from her face again until she looked pale. She shook her head. “Jonah, I can’t possibly take three months leave from my job. It’s important to me. I want a career as a journalist. I couldn’t take that much time away from what I do.”
My frown deepened. I felt a coldness in my chest, and suddenly I was irritated at her for spoiling the moment and the mood. “Leticia, you have to. What chance does this relationship have, and how can I learn to love you, if our time together is so limited? If this is about money… I have more than enough.”
Leticia shook her head again and this time her expression became defiant and resolute. I had made her angry. Her eyes became slanted. The soft dusting of freckles across her nose glowed like flakes of gold and there was a determined set to her jaw. “It’s got nothing to do with money, Jonah Noble,” there was heat in her voice. “Journalism is my career. I won’t give that up.”
“I don’t expect you to give up your work,” I said. “I simply expect that you would want to spend as much time with me as I have left.”
There was a jagged point in my remark.
Leticia’s resolve began to crack. Her narrowed, slanted eyes widened suddenly and her expression became softer. “Jonah, I want to spend every minute with you,” she reached a hand out towards me in a kind of plea. “But I also want my career.”
I turned away and stared into space, feeling a simmering sense of frustration. “Are you trying to tell me, Leticia, that your career is more important to you than this relationship?”
“No,” Leticia became defensive, the
n suddenly her voice dropped. “But it is as important…”
“Then how? How do we make this work?”
Leticia hugged her arms tight around her shoulders and began to pace restlessly across the room, prowling like a lioness behind the bars of a cage. For the longest time she said nothing, and I took secret delight in simply watching and remembering the way this woman moved: the graceful way her body glided.
I watched her face. I could make out the fall of her hair across her shoulders, and saw the soft shape of her lips.
I remembered kissing those lips – I remembered the heat of her body close to mine, and the breathless little sounds she made as her eyes had fluttered open and she stared at me when I had handcuffed her.
Finally, Leticia turned by the big window and stood facing me, her clenched fists on her hips and her legs astride. I could see the rapid rise and fall of her breasts under the thin cotton. She made a gasping little hiss of decision, but spoke so softly that I barely heard the words.
“Give me another interview.”
I blinked. “What do you mean…?” I asked with slow, wary caution.
Leticia’s eyes were suddenly alight and bright with enthusiasm. “Give me another interview, Jonah. Let me talk to the editor. I am sure that if I told him I could deliver another Jonah Noble exclusive interview, he would gladly give me leave. It would mean we could spend our days and nights together and I wouldn’t be forgotten at the newspaper.”
“You are worried about being forgotten?”
Leticia nodded. “Journalism is a cut-throat career. My success depends on getting bylines for my articles, and getting noticed. If I suddenly stop writing then when I return to work I will have slid down the newspaper’s pecking order and I won’t get a chance at the best stories. If I deliver another Jonah Noble exclusive, that will give me credibility, and people all around the country will notice my name.”
Instinct took over. Suddenly my feet started moving and I found myself pacing as I had so many times before. Thoughts tumbled around in my mind as I wore a narrow path in the carpet to the door and back until finally Leticia broke the silence.
“Jonah?”
I stopped mid-stride and looked up. “I’m thinking.”
Leticia let my words hang in the air for long seconds, but couldn’t restrain herself for long. “Jonah, do you have any idea what has happened in the world since the newspaper published my interview with you?”
I paused. “No.”
“Haven’t you read a newspaper? Haven’t you looked at what people are saying on the internet?”
“No.”
Leticia shook her head, and the tendrils of her hair swished in the cool light. “Jonah, there are thousands of people online who are just crazy about you. There are Facebook pages all across the internet dedicated to you and the things you said in that interview. There have been hundreds of letters to the editor. Everyone wants to know more about you. Everyone wants to know the secret things you seem to understand about women.”
I blinked. I started pacing again, and thrust my hands deep into the pockets of my trousers. “Leticia, I didn’t ask for any of that. I didn’t ask for all this attention. I simply asked for the opportunity to tell my story before I died. What is happening beyond the boundaries of my world is not my concern. Tell everyone to find a new hero. I am not that man. I am a private man, and I like my life that way.”
Leticia came across the room to intercept me. She reached out and I felt her fingers on my arm. I stared down into her face. Her desperate need seemed to spark in her eyes, shadowing the innocent beauty of her features that I could still recall with minute detail.
“Jonah, you can’t hide from this. You can’t speak to the hearts and minds of so many women in the way you did, and then turn away from them. They won’t let you.”
I grunted. “They have no choice, Leticia. This is my world – my way.”
Leticia seemed to deflate. She raised her eyebrows and made a pouting shape with her mouth like she was disappointed. The energy, vitality and urgency seemed to go from her body and her face became somber and sad. She flinched away from me, and her hand fell to her side. She blinked and her eyes glistened. “Jonah, please be willing to compromise,” Leticia implored me. “Not everything can be your way. You have to be willing to be flexible. I am sure I can speak to my editor and spin a new interview into maybe a month away from my desk.”
Her lips trembled, and as I stared at her I saw her eyes were swimming. I had not expected tears. They took me by surprise. I felt the rigid hardness of my resolve slipping away. I subsided slowly.
“You fight dirty,” I acknowledged grimly.
Leticia shook her head. “I’m fighting to give us a chance.”
I narrowed my eyes and my mind became calculating. I wanted time with Leticia – more than anything else I wanted that. I took a long deep breath, and then made a decision. “Very well…” I said. “Make the phone call, and tell your editor that you want three months leave in exchange for three interviews.”
Leticia blinked and her eyes gradually became wider with dawning realization. She started to smile and kept on smiling until it sparkled in her eyes and the tears that had threatened disappeared like a morning mist.
Leticia took her cell phone from her handbag and dialed. She pressed the phone to her ear and turned away from me, beginning to walk to the far side of the room. I didn’t move. She reached the doorway and leaned against the wall casually with her ankles crossed. The pose seemed to accentuate the narrowness of her waist and the womanly flare of her hips. Her body was all flowing feminine curves.
I heard Leticia speak quickly and quietly for several moments. She glanced over her shoulder at me, smiled, before turning her attention back to the call.
I drifted across to the table. The bottle of whisky was almost half empty. I reached for it then stilled my hand as Leticia turned suddenly and began to speak.
The words were not her own. She was relaying a message from the newspaper’s editor and then she paused for a long moment. “Hold on,” she said. She cupped her hand over the phone and began to translate. “My editor is willing to make the deal,” Leticia smiled brightly. “But he wants the interviews to be specific,” she explained.
I nodded. “Go on…”
Leticia bowed her head back over the phone, frowning with concentration. She looked up at me again. “He wants me to interview you about the art of anticipation, but he also wants your opinion about the advantages of the BDSM lifestyle… and he wants you to do a piece where you talk to men about how they can be better lovers.”
I narrowed my eyes shrewdly and began to circle the room, pacing slowly.
“Haven’t I already talked about anticipation enough?” I asked. “Wasn’t that part of the interview you recorded?”
Leticia nodded. “I wrote everything you told me, Jonah. But the fact is that women around the world can’t seem to get enough of this kind of information. One influential writer is calling you ‘The Sex Whisperer’.”
I turned my head sharply. “What does that mean?”
Leticia shrugged her shoulders. “It’s good,” she said. “It’s like you know some kind of secret language that reaches women on a very deep, emotional level.”
I frowned, and kept pacing the room. For long moments there was just the soft sound of my steps in the thick carpet and Leticia’s uncertain breathing.
“When? When does your editor want these interviews?”
I heard Leticia let out a small sigh of relief and she took two quick steps towards me. I could smell the soft lingering scent of her perfume. “As soon as possible, if you don’t mind,” Leticia said. “The editor wants to run with this story right away, while everyone is still talking about you.”
I hesitated. For long seconds, I said nothing until Leticia’s expression became worried and then desperate.
“Jonah…?” She still had her hand over the phone, her editor holding on the end of the line.
&nb
sp; “I am thinking,” I said.
Leticia gasped. “Jonah! Please be logical about this…”
I blinked at her and suddenly laughed. “Now you want me to be logical?” I shook my head at the irony and sighed. I stared up at the ceiling before locking my eyes on Leticia’s. “Tell him he has a deal,” I said.
Leticia made a squealing sound of delight. She spoke in an excited, staccato of words to her editor. She ended the call with a stab of her finger and threw the phone down. It skittered across the table.
She threw herself impulsively into my arms.
Leticia’s eyes were alive with excitement. I felt her hands entwine around the back of my neck and she smiled up into my face with an expression of pure joy.
“Now the kiss?”
Leticia nodded. “Absolutely, Jonah Noble!”
I pulled her body close to mine. There was a split second pause – an instant when we both realized that this moment would forever change our lives. And then I kissed her.
Leticia’s body was slim and toned and trembling. I lowered my mouth to hers and the kiss smoldered on our lips. I felt her tongue flutter against my own. Leticia moaned – a throaty, husky sound of desire – and my senses became enveloped by the scent and the textures of her.
My arms went from around her waist, one hand sliding up her back and the other reaching between us until I cupped the firm weight of a breast. Leticia leaned back a little within my embrace to make it easier for me. With the tips of my fingers I teased her body through the thin fabric until I felt the swell of her nipple, hard and urgent, between the stuff of her bra. Leticia writhed in my arms. She moved her weight, shifting it from one foot to the other so that her pelvis brushed against me and I felt the first instant of my hardening arousal. I broke the kiss for a moment and Leticia was giddy and gasping. There was a fathomless distance in her eyes, glazed and unfocused. Her lips were wet and glistening.