He didn’t say more; she had to experience the show for herself. And he needed her unvarnished reactions.
“What does that mean?”
Sighing, he pulled her into a secluded corner and cupped her shoulders. “What you see tonight may confuse, shock, or excite you. Any of those reactions is valid. Just…approach everything with an open mind. Give me your opinions. Ask questions. I’ll explain if I can. Will you do that for me?”
“Of course.”
Naturally, she wanted to please, and it was easy to give her assent now. Keeping her promise would be much harder once she got inside.
He guided her back to the entrance and handed over their tickets. Anticipation and disquiet thrummed through his veins as they stepped into the wide space of concrete floors, industrial ceilings, and white walls.
A surgically stacked brunette in form-hugging red latex welcomed them, balancing a tray of champagne flutes on her palm. Black leather cuffs hugged each wrist. A thick collar squeezed her neck with an engraved plate that proclaimed her PROPERTY.
Beside him, Heavenly cocked her head, looking puzzled. Damn, he’d pay money to hear her thoughts. But he couldn’t push her. He had to let her process.
Beck thanked the submissive greeter, who deferentially dipped her gaze before ushering Heavenly farther into the room. Now, everything would get real. His nerves buzzed as the soft chatter around them hummed.
He stepped in front of the first painting, guiding her toward the unframed canvas of a naked woman lying on her side facing forward, hands tied behind her back, head lolling to the ground in tormented anticipation. Ropes framed her breasts and looped around her neck. Her legs were spread and trussed to remain bent, binds encircling thigh and shin.
The piece was stunning. Picturing Heavenly waiting for him in this pose revved his libido hard.
Clearing his throat, Beck studied her as she glimpsed the light-and-shadow masterpiece. The startled blink of her lashes preceded the wide flare of her eyes. An instant later, color rosied her cheeks. Then her lips parted, and her berry-pink tongue flicked against her upper lip. Thoughts clearly raced through her brain as she dragged her gaze toward him, as if reluctant to take her eyes off the erotic piece.
“Wow.”
“Yes. What else?”
“I, um… It’s striking. She’s anatomically correct and really flexible.”
Beck repressed a grin. “How does the painting make you feel?”
She squirmed as she gathered her words. His cock jerked.
“Will this exhibit be all about naked people?”
“Answer my question. Then I’ll answer yours.”
Turning back to the canvas, she stared, a little furrow between her brows. “Helpless. But not in a bad way. She looks at peace. It’s oddly…pretty. Does that make sense?”
Absolutely. And he’d bet Heavenly was at least vaguely aroused and didn’t understand why.
Beck did—and his blood roared. “Of course. Art is not only beautiful, it’s designed to make you feel something, to stir the imagination. It’s a personal journey for whomever views it.”
She nodded absently, still staring at the painting as if trying to understand her reaction. “Now you’ll answer my question?”
She’d soon discover he always kept his word. “Because it’s an exhibit of erotic works that focus primarily on alternative sexual lifestyle, I’m expecting a lot of nudity, yes.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her blush deepened. “Do you, um…think she posed like this for the artist or did he paint her from his imagination?”
Beck slid a finger beneath her chin. “Good question. As lifelike as that is—look at the sweat beading her brow and the quiver of her thighs—I’d guess she posed.”
She gave him a shaky nod, biting her lower lip as she stared again at the piece in fascination, nervously sipping her vino.
So that was a yes to attempting bondage.
Somehow, he managed not to seize her lips and rip off her dress. “Ready to move on?”
She nodded, and together they wandered to the next piece, this one a photograph of a pale woman standing alone against a dark wall, wearing stilettos, a collar—and nothing else. Her limbs were chained at wrists and ankles, stretched wide apart toward the edges of the frame. She’d tossed her head back as her body gave way to her bindings.
Beck turned to find Heavenly studying the photo. He could all but hear her wheels turning. “What’s going on in that gorgeous head, little girl?”
She glanced at him, worrying her lip. “I don’t get it. Why is she wearing a dog collar? And why is she strung up like that? I would think she’s a victim of something terrible, except…”
“Go on. Except what?”
“She seems to like it.”
Of course. She was floating blissfully in subspace. “She’s euphoric.”
“That doesn’t make sense to me. How could she enjoy someone degrading her?”
“Why do you assume someone is degrading her?”
Heavenly was slower to answer this time. “Well, first, someone tied her up and left her.”
“How do you know she doesn’t find pleasure or comfort in being bound?”