50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

50SOD II: Chapter Thirty-Seven

    The following day wasn't easy. It was a lot more tense than the previous day. Word traveled quickly. Harry Palmer's camp had documents that indicated Graham Enterprises made poor accounting decisions. The public that had been fair and understanding turned livid.

    To make matters worse, Destiny felt awkward around Brian. She caught him staring at her a few times, but neither of them went out of their way to talk to each other. She could tell that he was apologetic, but didn't know what to say to him. So she avoided him. Focused on her work, printed our her reports, forwarded them to him without speaking. The look in his eyes was always pained when she entered his office, but she couldn't concern herself with that. Aubrey was the man she cared about. She didn't want to risk losing what she had with him.

    The company crunched down with there being talks of a leak. A hiring freeze was put into place until after the situation was handled. Lockdown mode. This was not a drill.

    It was another day that Destiny felt she should put in extra hours, but this time she didn't. She left work, spent time with Carlos and talked about his date the previous night. She demanded to know how he'd gotten a date on such short notice.

    "Honey, when you look this good," he said, shaking out his hair and holding out a limp wrist, "people can't help but flock to you."

    Carlos proved to be much needed comic relief when there was so much tension in all other areas of her life.

    The rest of the week seemed to fly by. Each workday was stressful, but then she would hang out with Carlos and he'd help cheer her up.

    It was taking more and more effort to avoid Brian. He was trying his best to remain professional. He didn't joke, didn't flirt. He was cordial. Friendly. But he kept it at that.

    I wish he'd done that in the first place, she thought as she left work on Friday. She'd put in an extra few hours in the office. Aubrey had already gone home. By the time she left, the sky was already dark. As she drove home, she felt anxiety creeping along the surface of her skin. Her training resumed this weekend. And Aubrey had something very taboo in store for her, as he'd hinted. She had no clue what it was.

    Music was playing when she walked into the condo. It wafted from the entertainment center in the living room. She set her purse and keys on the kitchen counter and peered around the corner. He wasn't in the living room. Chewing on her bottom lip and looking around, she crossed the dining room and walked down the hall leading to the master bedroom. The door was cracked open. She pushed it open and entered.

    He wasn't in the bedroom, either. But clothes were laid out, feminine clothes.

    Frowning, she walked over to the bed and leaned down. Smoothed her fingertips along silky, long thigh-high stockings. Lightly touched the ruffles of a short skirt. An insanely short skirt, a skirt that would barely cover the goods. And above the skirt, there was the most beautiful, cream-colored corset. Glossy and soft to the touch, with beautiful silk laces spread out on the bed. The cutest Mary Jane heels were on the floor, beneath the revealing clothing garments.

    Aubrey leaned in the doorway of the master bathroom, wearing a pair of white linen pajama pants. "Do you like them?"

    She turned incredulous eyes on him. "What is this?"

    "Your outfit for tonight," he told her, pushing himself from against the doorframe and crossing the bedroom. He opened the closet door and walked inside.

    She lowered her eyes back down to the clothes. The outfit he'd laid out was very...sex kitten/baby doll. What could he have planned for her that would involve this outfit? Memories of the red room and the contraptions within sparked in her mind. With a deep breath, she started to undress. "Maybe I should shower first," she called to him.

    He poked his head out of the closet. "Don't shower. I want you...filthy."

    She opened her mouth to ask him what that meant, exactly. But as soon as he'd appeared, he disappeared back into the closet. With her brows furrowed, she undressed. She sat on the edge of the bed and drew the stocking up her legs, one by one. The skirt was next. It was adorable, cream-colored just like all of the other parts of the outfit. She wasn't a huge fan of ruffles, but this skirt was simply beautiful. Once she had it pulled up over her hips, though, she realized just how short it was. She stared down at it with the corners of her mouth turned downward.

    Aubrey exited the closet, casually dressed in a black t-shirt and dark jeans. He didn't look like Aubrey. He looked like Drake, the rapper she listened to years ago. The rapper she still sometimes listened to, even though he was no longer an entertainer. His feet were encased in Drake's trademark Timbs. She loved a man in a suit, but there was something about this outfit on him that made her want to jump his bones. Maybe it was because she always saw him in a suit. Maybe if he always dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, she'd feel the same way the minute he threw on a suit. She didn't know, but whatever it was, she had to cross her legs tight at the sight of him in that t-shirt and those perfectly fitting jeans. He looked her over, from the tips of her bare breasts down to her thigh-highs. "The skirt is perfect."

    "Perfect?" she repeated. "It's way too short."

    He chuckled and walked over to his dresser, where he used the lotion dispenser. "The skirt is perfect," he maintained, rubbing the lotion into his hands. "Did you need help getting the corset on?"

    "I don't know the first thing about putting one of these on," she said, picking it up.

    He walked over to her and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Give me that," he said, gesturing towards the corset she awkwardly held in her hands.

    She handed it to him.

    "Now, stand in front of me and turn around," he commanded.

    Taking a deep breath, she moved to stand in front of him, making sure to keep her back to him.

    He lifted her skirt up. "You're wearing panties," he muttered, his voice dripping with disapproval.

    "Was I...not supposed to?" she asked him, twisting around.

    "Look straight ahead. And no, you don't need them." His hands tugged her panties down her legs. They pooled around her stockinged feet. "Step out of them."

    He's probably going to tie me up in the red room again, she thought as she stepped out of her underwear.

    He unbuckled the corset and held out each side. "Take each side, and buckle it in front." Patiently, he waited for her to finish buckling each clasp. Then, he reached out and adjusted the corset at the bottom, shifting its position on her hips to make sure it was centered properly.

    Today, she'd worn her hair curly for him, since he preferred it that way. She smoothed her curls over one shoulder and turned her head so she could watch him.

    His movements were quick and precise as his fingers worked to lace the corset. Lace, and then tighten. Lace, and then tighten.

    Her eyes widened at how tight the garment became around her torso.

    "Too tight?" he asked her.

    "Just a little," she said.

    He loosened it a bit and finished lacing and tightening. Then he connected the garters at the bottom of the corset to the top of each thigh high stocking. "Turn around," he told her.

    She turned around and looked down.

    "Beautiful," he said. "Perfect."

    "So much effort for the red room," she commented with a nervous laugh.

    He lifted his eyes to her face. "This outfit isn't for the red room," he said.

    Her brows drew together. "Then what...?"

    He stood up. "You and I are going out tonight," he explained, walking around her and returning to the closet.