Communication Skills by Minxie Wells

Author:Minxie Wells
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781949300246
Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.
Published: 2019-01-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Bingo

As if sensing I was still weak from the day’s adventures, Grahame wrapped me in a shawl, helped me out of the cab, and into the elevator of his apartment building on the Upper West Side. The attendant greeted him warmly and offered me a friendly hello as he pressed the PH button. I wondered how many women had made this same journey up to the building’s most luxurious accommodations on the penthouse level.

Grahame pressed a combination into the alphanumeric keypad outside the apartment door and ushered me inside. But rather than turning on the lights, he pulled me close, enveloping my body in his arms. We stood there in the dark foyer, our mouths open to each other, tongues sparring. It was our first really romantic embrace. His hands traveled along the sides of my torso, my back, and the curve of my ass. I yearned to reach under his cashmere sweater and caress his athletic arms and chest but instead kept my hands around his neck, hoping to be granted permission to explore on my own. Alas, he extended no such offer.

After too short an interlude, he reached over and turned on the light, revealing a level of magnificence I’d only seen in luxury home magazines and my imagination. He whisked me past the elaborate living room décor into a smaller, more intimate room—the library, no doubt—featuring a Murano glass chandelier and stocked bookshelves lining three of the four walls.

In the middle of the room sat an antique nineteenth century Empire game table, and on that table was a Scrabble set I had only heard about but never seen in person—one of the legendary French-made Georges & Monica Bloumels editions. It featured a magnetic board, metal tiles that were embossed in gold and covered in soft lambskin leather, gold-plated brass, and leather racks, and even a goatskin tile pouch—a true work of art. Worth thousands, it was the one set every game aficionado coveted.

“It’s gorgeous,” I gushed, walking over and running my hand along the side of the board to feel the exquisite material. “I’d be scared to actually use it to play.”

“Better overcome that fear quickly. We are going to play and with some very specific rules.”

My ears perked, my competitive streak shifting into full gear.

“What rules might those be?”

“Let me get you a glass of wine first, and we’ll discuss it. Chardonnay or Bordeaux?”

“You choose.”

“Excellent response. You are learning, which is highly encouraging.”

As he was off decorking, I studied the books on the shelves, pulling out the ones of most interest. Some were the typical tomes I expected any Dom to own—the full boxed set of the Sleeping Beauty trilogy by Anne Rice writing as A.N. Roquelaure. The Marketplace series by Laura Antoniou. But then a real surprise—a signed, hardcover first edition of Atlas Shrugged. Grahame was clearly a man of varied tastes.

He returned, catching me in the act of returning Atlas Shrugged to its rightful place in the stacks. He waited until I’d finished and handed me a glass of white wine.

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