50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

50SOD II: Chapter Four

    Aubrey was silent the entire car ride home. He still grabbed Destiny's hand and pulled it across the console of his sleek, black Bugatti. He pulled her hand into his lap and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

    "Your mother was just as adorable as I remember," Destiny told him.

    "Mmm," he responded while driving.

    "And she's a very good cook," Destiny said, trying to see if she could get more of a "Mmm," out of him.

    "I agree," he said softly.

    That was it. He wasn't in the mood to talk, and she had a feeling she knew why. She turned and stared out of the passenger side window.

    They returned to the condo, where he dropped his car keys on the island counter in the kitchen. He removed his suit jacket and tossed it over the arm of the couch in the living room before collapsing on it and tilting his head back.

    She remained near the island counter in the kitchen, not knowing if he wanted her in the same room with him. From where she stood, she could see him. He stared up at the ceiling in silence for several moments.

    When he tilted his chin downward and looked towards her, their eyes locked. The look in his eyes was unreadable as he opened his mouth and said, "I'm going to give you a set of instructions. I want you to listen to them very carefully. Understood?"

    She clasped her hands together in front of her to keep them from shaking. "Yes, Sir," she said softly.

    "I want you to go into the bedroom. I want you to close the door behind you. I want you to put on your collar. Are you with me, so far?"

    She nodded, her throat beginning to constrict. "Yes, Sir," she managed to get out.

    He smiled, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good. After you put on your collar, I want you to undress. Then, I want you to go into my closet."

    Her heart started to hammer in her chest, the minute he said the word "closet."

    "In my closet, there are a lot of drawers. I want you to go to the second group of drawers on the left side of the closet. I want you to kneel down and open the bottom drawer." The expression on his face was calm, but his voice had a sharp edge to it. "There are three boxes in this drawer. I want you to take all of them out. I want you to bring them out here and set them on the coffee table. Do you have any questions about the instructions I have given you?"

    He knows. He knows and he is going to punish you. She opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to apologize to him. Apologize for snooping through his personal effects without asking. Apologize for not telling him that she had sooner. Apologize that he had to find out she'd gone through his things on a special night they were spending with his mother and his family. They'd had a great time with his family, but now that night would forever be stained with this moment, right here, and the moment she'd given herself away at his mother's house.

    He arched an eyebrow. "Did you have a question?"

    No...I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being honest with you. I'm sorry for being nosey. I didn't mean to do anything that would make you distrust me. The words were right there on her tongue, but she couldn't get them out. She was afraid to speak. She hung her head down, frustrated with herself. "No, Sir."

    "Please do as you have been told," he said, finally breaking eye contact with her and lowering his gaze to the floor.

    She bit her bottom lip and walked through the dining room and down the hall that led to the master bedroom. She walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She pressed her back flat against the door, covered her mouth with her hands, and closed her eyes. She knew she had disappointed him. On the day she'd searched through his drawers, she hadn't expected to find a videotape dating all the way back to his childhood. She expected to find maybe a little black book. Something trivial that would still give her more insight into his character. He was a mysterious, fascinating man. She had wanted to know more about him. She had wanted help in understanding more about who he was, as a man. She had wanted to feel closer to him.

    She leaned against the bedroom door, trying to calm herself down. She heard a door open and turned her head, dropping her hands down at her sides. She turned around, reached out, and grabbed the doorknob. Then, she eased the door open as quietly as possible and peered through the crack in the door.

    The door to the red room. It was open.

    She blinked, swallowed, and closed the door. She tried to calm her nerves. She tried to remind herself that he loved her and wouldn't really harm her. Punish her, quite likely, but not hurt her. After collecting herself, she walked over to the night stand. She gathered her hair over one shoulder, picked up the black leather collar, and buckled it around her neck.

    She took a deep breath, walked over to the mirror on the other side of the bed, and studied her reflection. She lifted her hands and reached behind her neck to grab the zipper at the top of her dress. She slid it down as low as she could, then reached a hand around her back to drag the zipper down the rest of the way. She slid the criss-crossed straps down her shoulders with tears burning in her eyes. As she allowed the dress to fall to the floor, she tried to think of what she was going to tell him. She tried to think of the words she would use when she apologized. Everything she came up with sounded lame, even to her.

    She groaned in frustration, staring at her reflection. A curvy, pretty, black girl with sunkissed, medium brown skin, almond-shaped eyes, a cute nose, and full lips stared back at her. Why did you have to open that damned drawer? she asked herself. And when you saw the boxes that were in it, why did you have to open them? She heard a door close and turned her head, looking over her shoulder. The door to the bedroom was still firmly closed and she was still the only one in the room. Most likely, that was the sound of the door to the red room closing. He'd grabbed whatever torture device he intended on using and was probably making his way back to the living room, where he would carry out whatever sentence of punishment he'd deemed worthy of her disregard for his privacy.

    She hurriedly removed her undergarments and carried her clothes to the hamper. Then, she walked over to the closet and opened the door.

    There were benefits to being the head of a corporation worth nearly a billion dollars: this closet was one of them. Insanely spacious, especially for a condo unit. High-tech to the max. When she stepped inside, lights flickered on, sensing her movement. She padded over to the column of drawers - a familiar column of drawers that she'd stood in front of weeks ago, on a day when Aubrey had gone to work. She dropped down to her knees, staring at the drawer. Knowing that she was taking way too much time to complete the tasks he'd told her to do, but unable to get rid of the memories that started to overwhelm her. She remembered the letters, the letters he'd written to a former fiance who'd cheated on him for a lengthy amount of time. The letters started off as love letters, but had quickly become something else. He still had the ring he'd given to that woman, a beautiful diamond ring. Then there was the videotape...

    She closed her eyes, trying to push the memories to the back of her mind. She opened the drawer and grabbed each box from it, stacking them on top of each other. She closed the drawer, stood up, and picked up all three boxes in her arms.

    When she returned to the living room, Aubrey was seated on the couch. A flogger, a whip, a long chain, and a paddle rested on the couch beside him. He looked up at her, then down at the boxes she was carrying in her arms. He didn't speak. The orders he'd given her previously had been precise. She should know what to do next.

    She placed each box on the coffee table, then stood with her head bowed and her hands clasped in front of her.

    "On your knees," he said softly.

    More words leapt to her mind. Explanations. Words of apology, of regret. Words that would at least give him an idea of why she'd done what she'd done. But she couldn't speak any of them. Her throat grew tighter and tighter, to the point where it was difficult for her to swallow. Since she couldn't get the words out, she wordlessly obeyed his order and lowered down to her knees.

    "Look at me," he instructed.

    She lifted teary eyes and stared at him.

    He held her gaze for a long time. "I'm going to ask you a question. I want you to be very honest with me when you respond. Do you understand?"

    I'm so sorry, Aubrey. I didn't mean to disrespect you. I just wanted to understand you. "Yes, Sir," was all she said.

    He tilted his head towards the three boxes. "Have you seen these threeboxes before?"