Play Assingment

Chapter 8

I had to leave the club. Having said goodbye to the steward, I, on stiff legs, went to the exit. Once again, I thought I had chosen the right shoes for tonight. I wouldn't be able to walk in stiletto heels.

While walking the path to the gate, I did not think about anything. Was not able to. I just caught myself smiling stupidly.

A surprise awaited me at the gate. An expensive sedan, vaguely familiar. The passenger door flew open, and the driver leaned over the seat and spoke to me:

- Sit down. We are on the way. 

I stared at the man, dumbfounded, trying to recognize him. Then it clicked. The same unfriendly neighbor and security guard in the club who stood at the door both times.

I looked at him apprehensively.

- What about incognito? 

He chuckled.

- You recognized me. I recognized you. 

- Why did you decide that I recognized you? 

- Recognition flashed in your eyes when you came last time. So do you sit down or not? 

I was tired and satisfied. I wanted to go home to my bed. Call a taxi and wait for it to arrive, there was no strength. At all. I was squeezed out like a lemon. At the same time, feeling incredible richness. 

- I'll sit down. - I tried to smile and froze for a moment. -Are you working as a security guard here?  

In the morning, brilliant thoughts come to my mind. The sparks in my neighbor's dark eyes also spoke of my "genius."

- I lost a bet, so I "worked" for the benefit of the club's visitors. 

My brows arched, and to hide a slight awkwardness, I exhaled:

- Ohhh. 

Sinking into the driver's seat, I relaxed and leaned back. The night was not easy and very hot. Everything inside was still shaking, and it ached pleasantly between my legs.

- I see you liked it. 

Is that why he cannot remain silent? At our first meeting, when a neighbor delivered a parcel to me, he gave the impression of a rude and ill-mannered person who carefully guarded his personal space. Now it seems to have broken through.

I, on the other hand, did not want to talk. Too tired. Too satisfied.

I did not disassemble:

- I liked it. 

- So, maybe we can arrange a joint session? 

The man looked at me expectantly, narrowing his eyes slightly.

I don't know what came over me at that moment. What prompted me to turn around.

I turned around.

And I saw Mason looking in our direction. I wish I could see the expression on his face, but I wanted to think it was indignant. Mason was jealous.

I bit my lip and looked ahead of myself again.

Then I forced myself to relax. Have I already decided everything? I decided at the moment when I left the room. I knew what I would do in a day. Or two.

An anticipating smile played on my lips.

Epilogue.

Mason stood at the window with his arms crossed behind his back and watched as the landscape designer proved something to the workers. They were behind schedule, and now they tried to justify themselves. Mason did not interfere, letting them figure it out for themselves. He doesn't pay money for that in order to delve into minor showdowns.

Moving away from the window, he sank into a chair and stared at the computer monitor. The last chapter of the second novel is finished, the epilogue remains—two novels in six months. The pace impressed both him and the editor. Mason wrote for days on end without getting up from his desk. He thought only about the heroes. He experimented with storylines, removed something, added something. The end result pleased him. He quickly found the editor for the first book. Even before he made the decision to go into creativity, he raised his connections. There is an accidentally dropped word, and there is a randomly spoken wish. They took the first book after reading the first chapters and synopsis.

Moreover, an unprecedented event took place. The editor showed the chapters to a colleague from France, who also became interested. Now Mason's first book will be released simultaneously in the USA and France.

The second was on the way.

Why wasn't the epilogue written? Why did the feeling of dissatisfaction settle in his soul?

Mason was not lying with himself and knew the reason. He missed Abigail. And then a meeting at the Ava club. Fate?

He visited the club several times, collecting material for the book. One of the co-owners was Shon, his friend from the university. Everyone had their own preferences. Mason needed to feel the atmosphere of the b**m community, and he turned to Shon. He supported him.

Mason got carried away. He studied the habits of the Masters, Dominants, Submissives, and he came to the conclusion that he was turned on by such s****l entertainments. He remembered how Abigail asked him to be tougher with her, but he refused. Abigail… Did he do the right thing by divorcing her? Who would understand now? But their meeting at the club stirred up old feelings.

 Epiloque

Mason tried to call her several times over the past six months, and each time he stopped himself. What will he tell her? What was the hurry with the divorce? Yes, she would send him to hell, and she would be right. Six months ago, it seemed to him that he had made the right decision, now he was more and more often overcome by doubts.

And this meeting at the club.

He did not know who would be his partner in the first session. These are the rules of the club. And when Abigail entered the room, he could not believe his eyes. How did she end up in the club? What brought her to Ava? The next day, he found out that the editorial board of the magazine arranged a task for her, and later Abigail, just like him, decided to try new s****l entertainments on herself.

They walk the same paths.

Mason ran his hand through the regrown hair. Stop thinking about Abigail. You must finish an epilogue, then call her and invite her for a cup of coffee. If she refuses, I will not lose anything, right?

His fingers touched the keyboard as one of the workers burst into the office, knocking and not waiting for an answer.

- Mason, here's a package for you. 

Mason frowned.

- Come here. 

The box was small, about ten by ten inches, without a return addressee. With a confident movement, Mason opened the lid and, seeing the contents, could not help smiling.

Inside, on a velvet base, lay a lace mask, handcuffs, and a note.

Mason took the note and, reading the words written in familiar handwriting, did not hold back the joy that overwhelmed him.

"I liked being your Sub. Let's play some more?"

Let's play.

Certainly!