The Key

Miranda waited patiently while Silvia completed her transaction for the painting, heading shortly there afterwards back towards the restaurant where they had parked their other vehicles. Saying their good-byes, Darlene held back until after Silvia had left.

"So? Find out anything?"

"Not much, she wasn't even sure she remembered him being there. Obviously whatever the reason he was there for, he didn't approach her about."

"Now what?"

"Now...I call him," Miranda stated with finality.

Darlene grinned. "Well, when you do, you know I'll be expecting details girl-friend! Lots and lots of details!"

#

Miranda didn't even bother to wait until arriving home. As she drove, she fished out the slip of paper that Brad had given her from the secret little compartment in her purse. She dialed the number listening to it ring only twice before he answered.

"Hello?"

For a moment, Miranda didn't even speak, suddenly afraid and about to hang up.

"Miranda?"

That stunned her. Hearing him say her name, not even sure that it was, or could be her, she answered.

"Hi Brad," she said nervously, trying to control the excitement in her voice. She felt her pulse-rate suddenly escalate, her breathing becoming quicker, shallow as she fought to take charge of her emotions.

"Nice to hear from you, I was hoping I would."

Again, Miranda fumbled with the words to say. Hearing her voice, Brad hadn't seemed even the least bit surprised to hear from her. Something she wasn't sure that she found either flattering, or annoying. That he was perhaps actually expecting her to call, anticipating it painted her as too eager, too available. And she didn't want him thinking that about her either. Yet, that he'd been pleased to hear that she'd called, "hoping" she would as he'd said it, made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside too. Something she hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

She decided to play coy, taking back control to some extent.

"Well actually, I was cleaning out my purse and stumbled across your number, I nearly tossed it away but then decided I wanted to at least call and thank you once again for dinner the other night."

There was only momentary silence. "Well, you're very welcome. But I was hoping we might have dinner again some evening, or just drinks if you'd prefer. Someplace where you'd feel more comfortable perhaps?"

Now it was her turn to be silent as she considered the invitation. She could end it here, or she could take the next step, see where it went. She was still in control, and knew that she could end things at any moment anywhere along the way if she needed to. And besides...Bill was out of town. There might not be a better opportunity for her to find out more about who and what this man really was. And more importantly, did he have anything to do with the key to opening her heart, or was this simply some fantasy that she was dangerously entertaining?

"Perhaps we could meet for a couple of drinks somewhere," she said hesitatingly, letting him know in saying that, that she had no intention of meeting him anywhere else but wherever it was they were to meet for drinks. She would remain in control, and if things got out of hand, or if she felt uncomfortable being with him, she could leave whenever she damn well felt like it.

Brad didn't push it, hearing precisely what she'd implied by agreeing to 'meet' him someplace.

"How about Jared's? Say around nine-ish? You know the place?"

She did. It was one of the more exclusive nightclubs in town. She'd been there once with her husband when he'd been entertaining some clients. But that had been well over a year ago. She'd even asked her husband to take her back there again, just the two of them since the firm had a membership. But he never had.

"Sounds good," she said demurely.

"I'll leave your name at the door," he assured her. "Ask for Michael when you come in, he'll know where I'll be waiting for you."

With that Brad rang off before allowing Miranda to say anything else. Not that she would have, or even balked out in changing her mind in agreement to meet him. But he'd effectively kept her from having that option. Still, she smiled feeling much like the high school girl she'd once been about to go on her first ever prom date.

"Shit!" she exclaimed pulling down the rear-view mirror, checking her appearance, running her fingers briefly through her hair. "What the hell am I going to wear?" she asked herself now glancing at her watch. It was already nearing seven-thirty. She barely had enough time to get home, shower, change and meet him there by nine.

Miranda calmed. "Well, if I'm a little late, so be it. If he really wants to see me, then he'll be there," she mused to herself. She slowed the car back down to just under the speed limit of forty-five. Miranda contemplated what outfit she really would wear, something not too sexy or provocative for sure. But something that would at least hint at the smoldering sensuality just below the surface.

She inched her speed back up to just over fifty arriving home just a short time later.

#

Miranda found herself hurrying through her preparations even though she'd already told herself she wouldn't. Putting on a fresh coat of lipstick, brushing out her hair one last time, she slipped into something that she felt would be comfortable and unrestrictive yet hinting at the femininity of a woman who was confident in herself. She slipped into one of her sexiest black lace bras.

"Not that he'll ever see it!" she said aloud to herself. But it made her feel sexy just wearing it. And if she felt sexy, she knew she would be. She chose a loose fitting black silk shirt allowing one button more than she might otherwise allow to remain undone. Just enough cleavage showing to hint at the gentle well rounded slope of her breasts. She dabbed a small amount of Obsession between them, "Not that he'll get close enough to that either," she teased herself. "But perhaps the subtlety of the perfumes fragrance might further disarm and entice him in some way," she further considered.

Miranda slipped into a short, but not too short black matching skirt. Though she wore pantyhose, she wore nothing else, putting on a pair of her favorite open-toed heels, though these too were comfortable enough to dance in if they should do that.

She wondered if they would dance. And found herself once again looking forward to the prospect of being held within his arms while they did. Miranda took one last final check of herself, smiled, and glanced at her watch. She'd be there exactly on time.

#

The place was packed and there was a small line of people who stood outside waiting to get in. Not sure what she was supposed to do, feeling slightly uncomfortable, Miranda walked to the head of the line where one of the bouncers stood slowly letting people in as others left. About to ask for Michael, the bouncer took a closer look at her.

"Would you be Miranda?" he asked. Startled, she nodded her head yes as he undid the rope-chain baring entry, allowing her to pass. "Just inside the door there will be another bouncer," he told her. "He'll point out Michael for you."

"Thank you," she told him and entered inside.

The place hadn't changed much since the last time she'd been here. The atmosphere the same, dimly lit with small candles burning on each of the tables as the only real light source except for on the dance floor, where even there the lights continued changing colors making it difficult to see much or even know for sure who it was you were dancing with. She turned, spotting the bouncer she'd been told to expect sitting on a nearby barstool keeping a watchful eye on the crowd.

"Excuse me, I was told you could point Michael out for me," she told him. He smiled, looking through the throng of people for a moment.

"Over there," he said pointing. "She's wearing the light blue jacket and bow-tie."

Miranda was surprised. She'd assumed that Michael was a man. Heading over towards the longhaired brunette beauty, she felt a pang of jealousy confusing her briefly as there was no reason she should be feeling this way. Brad hadn't indicated that Michael was a girl of course, but there really hadn't been a real reason to unless he thought that her discovery of that might be found to be amusing. It wasn't. Still, she smiled as she approached introducing herself.

"Michael? My name's Miranda. Brad Edwards told me to ask for you."

She was surprised when Michael gave her a warm and friendly smile. "Nice to meet you. Brad's waiting for you, follow me."

Michael crossed over to an upper-stairway, this too security guarded by another tall burley looking man. Seeing their approach, he didn't even hesitate immediately undoing the rope-chain that secured anyone's passing without authorization to the upper level.

Michael led Miranda up a short flight of stairs, pausing at the top extending her hand into the room beyond. Miranda followed the movement spotting Brad as he became aware of them, standing. He smiled. The hint of black light in the ceiling above gave his teeth an almost too white appearance, as was the simple white tee shirt he wore beneath a dark brown suede jacket. He wore Levi's, semi-faded but crisply pressed, penny loafers, no socks. As simply dressed as he was, he looked better than most wearing a tuxedo.

Miranda felt her heart skip a beat even as he waved a 'thank-you' to Michael who was already turning to head back down the stairs.

"Hey!" he told her as she reached him, surprised as he leaned over kissing her lightly on the cheek. "You're beautiful!" he commented, stepping around her, holding her seat.

"Thank you," she said blushing having gotten a quick whiff of Brad's cologne making her head spin with the intoxicating aroma. She spotted what appeared to be a large pitcher of Margaritas along with two large over-sized glasses sitting upside down. Brad picked one up, dipping it quickly in a small bowl before placing it upon another plate full of salt where he then poured her a nice-sized glass.

"How'd you know?"

"Know what?" he responded fixing another drink for himself.

"That I like Margaritas!"

He grinned at her with that same boyish grin she'd seen him give to her before, and again, her heart seemed to flutter inside her chest.

"Ve have vour vays!" he replied in a mock imitation of a poorly done German accent.

"No really? How'd you know?" she asked once again with a nagging thought that had no real basis for making her nervous or leery that he should know, could know something like that.

"Good guess?" he said teasingly. "You just looked like a Margarita person. I like them myself actually. But if you'd prefer something else, I'll be glad to call down and order whatever you'd like!" Only then did Miranda realize there was a small phone placed upon the wall next to them, which he'd begun to reach for. She also noticed that they were also the only people sitting on the balcony overlooking the dance floor below.

"No, that's fine. I do like these," she said taking a sip. "Hmm, good too. Just the way I like them!"

Even as she took another sip of her drink, she noted the appreciative scrutiny Brad gave her with his eyes though careful not to linger too long in any one area.

"So, how'd you manage this?" she asked looking about the small balcony area that had seating perhaps for a dozen or so couples.

"V.I.P. area," he announced casually. "That and a few extra bucks to ensure we had some privacy for a little while at least," he said winking at her.

Miranda felt her cheeks redden slightly.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked suddenly catching her by surprise. The music from one of her favorite artists was playing, slow...sensual.

"Ok!" she responded without even thinking about it. Once again Brad stood coming around from behind to take her chair as she scooted herself out. Miranda began to head towards the stairs.

"Where you going?" Miranda turned, saw Brad as he stepped up onto a small platform, which was obviously a private, intimate dance floor. The primary source of black-lighting now bathing him in its effervescent glow as he stood there beckoning to her like a ghostly apparition as strobes began to slowly pulsate to the melodic beat of the sensual, passionate music. She all but floated across the floor towards him finally accepting his hand as he pulled her into his arms. She felt one strong firm arm securely wrap itself about her waist, the other pressed lightly against the small of her back already beginning to caress her as they began swaying together slowly, magically.

"This is nice, really nice," she whispered, though there was of course no need for her to have done so.

Placing her own arms up and about his neck, she leaned in towards him, her head resting comfortably against his neck, the smell of his cologne once again assailing her senses, causing her a headiness as she drew the scent of his maleness, and the spicy fragrance acting as a perfect balance to his refreshing smell. Miranda felt the press of her firm breasts against his chest, felt each of her tender nipples respond of their own accord as she stood there slowly moving against him. The occasional brush of his leg, his thigh against her, a teasing reminder of just how close they held one another, surprised that she felt no guilt, no remorse at dancing this close, this intimately with a man she had just barely met, never even knew really. And yet, she felt as though she had known him for a life-time, picturing herself lying next to him intimately, romantically in front of a toasty warm fire, glasses of wine sitting near by, and the sound of music, this song perhaps, playing subtly in the background.

"I enjoy the way you dance," she again whispered.

"I enjoy the way you feel," he answered huskily.

Miranda didn't even realize the song had quit playing until the sound of yet another song reached her ears. This one had more of an up-beat tempo to it though, making it awkwardly impossible to continue dancing together the way that they had been. Brad however had seemingly taken no notice of it either, continuing to hold her, still lightly, softly caressing the small of her back. She felt his fingers still tracing intricate patterns through the material of her blouse, causing a sea of goose bumps to crash in waves against her.

"Ah, the songs ended," she announced as though waking from a dream. Only then did he release her stepping back slightly away from her. She took that as a sign that they were to head back towards their table, especially as he reached out once again taking her hand in his. She began to step off the platform, suddenly drawn back towards him as the extension of his arm ran out. With surprising strength, he pulled her back in towards him, where she met him suddenly. His lips coming down upon hers, she...greeting and accepting his when they did. Her mind reeled, swimming in a sea of ecstasy as their tongues suddenly began to dance playfully against one another. The taste of his lips upon hers, drawing in her lower lip to gently suckle, chew before again fencing with her tongue. Likewise, she gave in to the erotic little game they were playing. Locating his upper lip with hers, licking him, kissing, then chewing on his lip softly and tenderly.

"Whew! Oh my God!" Miranda finally exclaimed coming back somewhat to her senses. "I think...I could use another drink," she stated purposely withdrawing her hand from his before he could pull her back, heading almost too quickly back towards their table where he followed. Arriving just in time to help her back into her seat, he bent over planting the softest of kisses upon her neck. She felt every square inch of her body respond to that, especially her femininity that responded in ways she'd not felt now in years.

"I'll be right back," he informed her. "There's something I want to give to you," he stated giving her hand an affectionate squeeze before slipping away heading back down the stairs and out of view.

Miranda quickly poured herself a second Margarita having finished the first without the elaborate process of adding any salt. She took a long healthy pull on it until her thirst was momentarily quenched, though the thirst for something else had only begun with the raging fires of desire making her all to aware of her predicament. She caught herself fingering a button on her blouse, felt as it came undone, wondering as it did why she had done so and contemplated briefly redoing it. Only then did she brush the tiny chain holding the miniature key about her neck. She reached for it instead and held it between her fingers, smiling, wondering.

Miranda looked quickly about. She could see no restrooms on this floor and knew she would have to head downstairs in order to find one. A bit of soft tissue strategically placed would prevent any embarrassing moments as the desire between her legs continue to escalate and present itself. "Worse comes to worse," she mused. "I think there were also some hygiene products in the women's room last time I was here," she considered.

The sound of Brad's return quickly reached her ears. She turned within her seat to face him as he approached, his hands behind his back, the boyish grin upon his face telling her that he did indeed have a surprise for her.

"Pick one," he said giving her what appeared to be some sort of a choice.

Miranda giggled, thought for a moment then pointed towards his left hand. "That one!"

Brad frowned as though she'd picked incorrectly, then allowed his face to explode in excited anxiousness as he brought his hand back around in front of himself, there enclosed a beautiful pure white perfect budded rose. "For you," he said extending it to her to smell. Miranda accepted it, doing so. Delighted at the soft perfumed aroma that came from the tiny perfect white bud.

"Pick another one," he said again, one hand still held behind his back giving her no other options.

Again she grinned, "Ok, the right one!"

Once again Brad held out his hand. This time she saw what appeared to be a tiny light blue box with a bit of delicate lace ribbon wrapped around it. Curiously, she accepted the gift without even acknowledging to him that she was grateful.

"Go ahead, open it!" he urged excitedly. She did. Inside, a tiny intricately fashioned box greeted her. She fished it out, opening the lid. A velveteen pad inside the tiny box. "It's for your key, someplace to keep it safe whenever you're not wearing it," he explained. "I thought you might like something like that," he added.

"Yes, thank you, I do!" she said happily, still surprised that he would think of such a thing to give her, but answering her unasked question simultaneously. The box certainly wasn't antique, newly made though exquisitely designed. Obviously Brad had stepped into that store in search for something, found nothing, and had simply left.

"You really like it?"

By way of an answer, Miranda stood once again coming into his arms. This time she kissed him even more deeply, more passionately if that was possible. They held their kiss for a long time, once again their tongues exploring, caressing one another until each was left breathless, panting from the erotic foreplay of their lips and mouths so hungrily needful of one another.

This time when Brad began to pull away, she held him close to her unwilling to let him go. Surprised by the sudden show of continued affection, he nuzzled her neck kissing her there, feeling the tiny bumps spring forth as he lightly licked and tickled each one with the tip of his tongue.

Miranda felt Brad's hand as it slowly circled, caressing the small of her back. She felt his fingers gently weave intricate patterns as they began working their way further down until they began to dance on the floor of her ass. Miranda allowed his adventure, reveling in the sensation of so intimate a contact. His continued explorations of her throat with his lips sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her entire being.