A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 08 | behind closed doors

Most men in black suits guarded the entrance to the helicopter.

"Mrs. Horton, stop staring and go in. Mr. Horton isn't the kind of person who waits for long."

"Sure."

I ascended the helicopter and said my last prayers.

One of the guys hopped in and whirled the door after me.

"Let's go, " he instructed the pilot.

I clutched the walls of the helicopter as it took off.

It seemed like we were going to fall due to all the shaking, and my heart slipped into my stomach.

The spinning of the large blades resulted in a boisterous sound that stole the silence in the discomfort.

"Where is Dwain?" I shouted at the top of my voice.

"What?" The guy next to me asked.

I heaved a sigh and repeated myself.

"Where is Dwain?"

"Mr. Horton, left before you arrived at the rooftop. You wasted his precious time so he decided to go without you."

Thunderstorms roared and accompanied his answer.

Lightning smashed its ugly face into my eyes.

I closed my eyelids and I prayed for safety.

"Mrs. Horton, don't be scared. We are landing in a few minutes."

THE HELICOPTER LANDED ON the rooftop of a tall building with no damage or turbulence.

The building had numerous lighting lanterns and energy-saving generators rippling at its surface.

The escort who made the journey with me unrolled the door of the helicopter to the drizzling drops of rain sliding down the building.

"Be careful with your head, let the blades not get a taste of your flesh, " he chuckled and wrapped a warm leather jacket over my shoulders.

"Thanks, " I mumbled as we strayed under an umbrella to an entrance at the rough top.

Two elevators stood out in the aisle, welcoming us after our encounter with numerous stairs.

Written in bold italics were labels inscribed at the top of each elevator.

My escort directed me to the one which read, 'Private Suite."

The red lights in the elevator drowned me in their beauty and no questions flickered in my mind.

How could I trust Anna's words?

Everything was planned.

They knew I wasn't Lisa but they did everything possible to get me wedded to this stranger.

How could I be this stupid?

Only the truth could save me.

I had to discuss it with Dwain.

The dingy sound of the elevator smashed me out of my thoughts and flung me into reality.

It was unsealed and my escort guided me out of the elevator.

He might have wondered about the kind of heavy daydreamer his boss got married to.

I sighed and smiled at him and walked in his rhythm to a room that had the caption; It's Play Time.

I halted upon arrival at the room and stared at the three words in the caption.

The name gave me goosebumps and sent strange tingles down my spine.

The remaining moisture in my throat dried out in a matter of seconds.

Megan had forced me once during our usual Friday movie nights to watch a mature dark romance fantasy that had to do with dominant males, submissive women, play toys, and hardcore sex.

Sweet Jesus, this couldn't be it.

"Knock at the door and enter. Mr. Horton should be waiting for you."

"But-"

My escort walked out of my presence.

He had gone, and my freezing self stood in a lonely aisle while I regretted my decision of getting married.

The last way through this was to face the elephant in the room.

If I didn't get in, how was I going to solve this problem?

I entered the room without knocking.

The first thing which caught my attention where the scented candles lit around the room.

The soft jazz blasting out of little speakers at the corner and the king-size bed at the center of the red-carpeted floor.

Lots of heart-shaped red pillows swamped the golden and white theme sheets on the bed.

The lump in my throat grew bigger as I glanced at the petals decorating the entrance straight up to the bed and the neon lights flickering on and off.

This room looked like the exact replication of the playrooms in that erotic fantasy.

Lights from a little compartment of the room stole my stare and the shadow in the bathtub taking a shower became my new center of interest.

I didn't realize how long I had been lost in my thoughts until a throat noise brought me out of my reverie.

Blinking my eyes, I raised them to meet the gorgeous human in front of me.

Little water droplets ran down his messy black hair to the defined muscles at his chest and they dripped down his stainless steel abs.

They looked like white bars of chocolate.

His muscles bulged out and begged for mercy as his biceps flexed.

My eyes tripped to his waist and the little white towel hanging at an indecent distance from his V-line printed out the curves of his manhood.

Ellis this is sin, take your eyes off his private, take your eyes off his private.

Then with a delicate move, Dwain's muscled arms unwrapped from his towel, letting it fall down his waist.

The white fabric, dropped to the floor, uncovering his white Calvin Klein pair of boxers, showing off the belly hair tracing out the hollow leading to his lump.