by Leigh Lennon
It’s a mistake. Jared, one of my closest friends and the man who has seen my dreams come to life in four other clubs in various cities, knows me well enough never to challenge me on this. Hand selecting him for my new club in Chicago is a no-brainer because his cutthroat business practices are almost as vicious as my own. Plus, he’s my best friend, growing up with one another.
Picking up my phone from my second-floor office at the club, far from the private rooms of our members, I almost yell through the line to my new receptionist I’m not too impressed with. “Nina, find me Jared and make it fucking now.”
“Yes, Sir.” It’s the only reply I’ll ever tolerate from my employees, especially my receptionist. Jared hired her on the spot. She’s a loyal submissive to one of our new members and has years of experience as a personal assistant. Even with all the glowing reviews, this lady can’t even make a fucking pot of decent coffee if her life depends on it. I’m not even sure her name is Nina, but it’s what I go with, and she answers to it. This shows me she’s a decent submissive even though I’m more of a straight-up asshole than a Dom.
I start the stopwatch on my phone, and when it hits two minutes, my hand is on the intercom again. “Fuck, Nina, what’s taking him so fucking long?”
“Sir, he’s in the kitchen. Some sort of issue with the fire marshal. He says, um…” She swallows hard, and I know I won’t like what he’s passed on to tell me. “He’ll get to you when he’s good and ready.” With a pause, I wait for her to finish. “Sir, I’m sorry, I’m only the messenger.”
Okay, so she’s not as shitty as I first thought. I’ve been a Dom long enough to know when I’ve gone over the edge. And have I mentioned, I’m a selfish and conceited prick, too? But in the end, Nina doesn’t deserve my wrath. Disconnecting the call, I walk out to her desk on the other side of my office.
She stands immediately. “Sir?” She averts her eyes from mine. I notice this submissive nature in her beauty. She’s stunning with raven black hair, eyes darker than licorice, and a petite body. With her four-inch heels on—one of my uniform requirements for all my lady employees—she’s still a good foot shorter than I am.
Patting her seat and moving it toward her, I begin. “Have a seat, Nina.” She flinches, and I stifle a laugh, knowing I have changed her name. “I’m an asshole.” She’s still looking down but now at her desk. “You can look at me.” She does as she’s told. “You’ve been trained well. I owe a thank you to your Dom.” A little smile pulls at her face. “Thank you for tracking down Jared so fast. I’m sorry for my crassness. There will be more, do you understand?” Basically, I am asking her to acknowledge that I’ll be more of a dick.
“Yes, Sir.”
“But I do reward my employees, too.” I don’t mean this in a physical way. She’s collared, and whether she’s working or is at play, all collared subs are off-limits.
During business hours, most have a necklace choker they wear at the discretion of their Dom. And the delicate sterling silver choker makes her neck look so edible. But this is a line I’ll never cross—not with someone already owning her.
“Thank you, Sir, and thank you for this opportunity.” Her voice is so timid. I love it.
“You’re welcome, Nina.” The fact her name is not Nina doesn’t make me want to learn a new one. Anyway, she looks like a Nina. “And, Nina, do me a favor.”
“Yes, Sir?” she replies, still in her timid voice.
“Can you ask someone down in the kitchen to teach you how to make a fucking decent cup of coffee?” With that, all my niceness has been used up, and I’m back to my douche-like ways.
An hour later, Jared’s secret knock on my door reminds me that I’m pissed off at him. One—for not coming when I called him, and two—for filling out this application wrong.
“Chad, you wanted to see me?” For everyone, I’m boss or sir, but for Jared and the five other managers, I let Chad slide. “Ka—”
I stop him before he can finish referring to my secretary. “Are you going to ask about Nina? Because it’s her name.”
He scrunches up his nose and narrows his gaze. “Um, no, it’s not. It’s—”
“Fuck, Jared, to me, she’s Nina, and when you address her in my presence, it’s fucking Nina, understand?”
With a shrug and shake of his head, he fills the room with his laughter. “Fuck, Chad, you are such a prick.”
Again, only the men I’d been raised with get a pass with something like this, but I give him a verbal warning. “Behind closed doors, this might fly, but you better fucking watch it. You feel me?”
“No, I don’t want to feel you, but fuck, I could feel up some of our new staff, that’s for sure.”
With that, we both break out in hysterics. “But seriously, Chad, what crawled up your ass that you have Ka… I mean Nina track me down in the kitchen. By the way, you scare the piss out of that girl.”
Turning to my bar, I pour us both a glass of McKenna, then hand him one before I take a seat behind my desk. “I know, it’s my plan. But I can tell she’ll be good as long as she can learn how to brew some decent coffee.”
As I take a sip of my smooth whiskey, something catches my attention on the desk and I’m reminded of the reason for this meeting. “Fuck, I forgot, you’re here for me to chastise.” I toss him the application and wait for his explanation.
The look on his face tells me I won’t like it when he turns his gaze from me, rubbing his chin. “Ah, shit. Yeah, I forgot to talk to you about this. You know my new sub? Well, she came to me, begging me to help her friend. They both got laid off from where Kira has been working for the past couple of years. I hated her working there, but she wasn’t collared to me. But as soon as she became mine, I put her up in my penthouse on Michigan Avenue, and I moved to my home on Orchard Street. You know me.”
I know my best friend. His subs are at his beck and call—they fuck—but Jared does not do commitment. “Thanks for the history lesson as if I haven’t fucking known you my whole life. So, this…” I look at the application. “Evelyn Lipton, how is she my fucking concern?”
“Kira has a bleeding heart. I’d been trying to get her to commit to this for a year. She’d played with me, but she’s the best sub. I guess I gave her friend a job as a gift, a thank you for accepting my collar.”
It doesn’t work this way, or should I say, I don’t work this way. “So I fucking get handed a girl who I assume knows nothing about this lifestyle because you’re too big of a pussy and gave in to your sub? Have you lost it? Is your sub’s pussy made of gold?”
The smile crawling on his face has my hands sweaty and body fuming. But Jared never knows when to quit. “Yeah, pretty much. She’s the only one I’ve collared since…” And this really shuts him up. We both want to fucking forget that bitch.
“Well, my friend.” I stand. “You’ll need to fix your fucking mistake. Tell Kira to tell Miss Evelyn Lipton and her very unfortunate name that she no longer has a job at Dungeon Elite. There’s a reason we don’t hire those outside of BDSM, you fuckup.”
I walk to my door to dismiss him because I can’t look his way. He stands, straightening his suit. He’s not in a hurry to leave my office, but this jackass is not scared of me, unlike most everyone else. “There’s something I forgot to tell you about Miss Evelyn Lipton.” His smug voice has me wanting to bitch slap the smile off his face.
“Make it good and then get the fuck out of my office.”
“I’ve seen her, and I’ve met her. I’m under the impression she’d make one hell of a sub.” He stops, and I wonder why in the world I’d care. But then he continues. “A great fucking submissive—for you.”
Chapter Three
Eve
Windows! So many windows line this apartment. Not only is the natural light beautiful against the whiteness of the penthouse, but I can also look out to Lake Michigan for miles. And big—or huge—is not even the way I would describe this place. The younger doorman from downstairs disappears, and my mouth is
left to gape, unaware of what I should say or even ask.
“Jason is taking your bags to the back guest room. It’s on the other side of the house, away from the master bedroom, so you’ll have privacy.” Kira’s eyes are warm, inviting, and kind. I’d be homeless without her.
My own room? I never expected this, but in my wildest imagination, I hadn’t thought she’d live in this castle either. “Um, Kira, this isn’t what I was expecting.” I wave my arms around the open living space as if she’d never seen her own home.
A nervous giggle escapes her lips. “Yeah, I just moved here a couple of weeks ago. When I offered you my couch, I was in a different place in my life. But now, I can give you your own room.”
I have so many questions, but inquiring about her financial situation is none of my business. It may be disrespectful to ask, but hell, I want to know. In my mind, I’m trying to form a very broad question, one which will allow her to share at her discretion, but before I can think of the best way to do this, a ring tone, Beyoncé’s “Crazy in Love,” blares through her mobile. She almost dives for it. Popping up her index finger, she whispers, “Gotta take this, Eve. Be right back.”
Scurrying off in the opposite direction of the living room, I hear her answer, “Yes, Sir.” It’s an odd greeting, even if she knows the person on the other end. But even in Kira’s whisper, her voice carries. “Oh, really, Sir?” There’s a long pause, and I know I shouldn’t strain my ears to listen, but it’s human nature. “Yes, Sir. It’s what I thought, too.” Another pause then her voice almost sounds sultry. “I can’t wait either, Sir.” She giggles, and I know I should walk away, but this makes me more intrigued. “It may be a hard sell, but in the long run, I think she will, once she understands.” She? Who is she? Certainly, Kira’s not talking about me. I’m on my way to find the part I’ll call my own space of this massive penthouse when her words stop me again. “Now? Well, yes, Sir. Whatever you say. See you soon. And, yes, I’d love to. Oh, and by the way, I shaved as you like.”
What the fuck? What could she mean? But I have no time to dwell on this when I hurry to find my way to the living room. Lounging on her couch as if I’ve been here the whole time, I pop my head up to see she’s moving and is on a mission. With a purse in one hand and a dress and heels in her other hand, she almost bulldozes over me. “Hey, we are about the same size.” I look at her and wonder if she needs glasses. Sure, we’re both rather short, but where Kira is built, her curves are not as curvy as mine.
“Kira, in what universe are we the same size?” I ask.
She shoves the dress and heels at me as her gaze rakes over my ample hips. “Well, we’ll just have to make it work, Eve. The person on the phone was the man who hired you at the club. His boss is setting up a meeting today with you.”
“Now?” I look at my watch. “Surely, can’t you just ask Jared if we can meet tomorrow?” I think that’s the name of the man who hired me. “I’m not even moved in. Can he give me a day?”
A loud chuckle flees from Kira’s ruby red lips. “Um, his boss is not a patient man, and since you’re in need of this job, you can’t alienate him.”
Looking at my jeans and loose-fitting T-shirt, she pulls me back to my room. It’s the first time I’ve seen my own space, and it’s true beauty. “And your ensemble won’t quite work.” She turns to hang the dress on the hook behind the door. “Hurry up. He expects us in the next hour, and it’s on the outskirts of town.” I wait for her to leave, but she plants herself in front of me, so I turn around to change, covering up as much of myself as possible.
“Eve, sugar, you and I have the same parts. No reason to be shy. But we’ve got to hurry. I’m not joking. If you want this job, then you gotta get your ass moving.”
Slipping out of my jeans, I’m happy I at least shaved my legs this morning. “Shit, Eve, you’re so pale. Oh, well, this purple dress should help a bit.” Though I can dress myself, she’s pulling the wrap dress over my head. It’s snug, no denying it, but it’ll work. “Fuck, girl, look at those boobs and how they fill out this dress. I’m so jealous.” Tying the knot at my side, she latches a choker around my neck and large loop earrings. These two items aren’t me at all.
“This fucker is choking me.” It’s not tight, not really, but I hate stuff around my neck. I never wear turtlenecks for this reason.
Kira fits two fingers under the choker and laughs. “It’s not, Miss Dramatic. And anyway, believe me, out of anything you have on, this is the one piece you’ll be glad you’re wearing.” And before I know it, she’s put on a similar choker and is yanking me out the door and into a cab headed to a nondisclosed location. What in the world have I gotten myself into?
The cab pulls up to a large house. No, it’s a fucking mansion. When we come up to a gate, Kira slips out quickly to input a code, then her thumbprint. The second our car wraps around the circular drive, the smoking hot man who had interviewed me rushes to the taxi, opening the door for Kira. But there’s more, so much more. The man, Mr. Hotness, pulls her into a long kiss, and she kneels before him.
For the second time in thirty minutes, I ask myself internally, what the fuck have I gotten myself into? She stays in this stance as Mr. Hottie pulls out a wad of cash and pays the cabbie.
“Mine,” he says as though it’s Kira’s name or title. “Stand, sweet girl.”
She rises, her face downturned, not moving. “Kira, honey, relax.” And she goes from her stiff posed posture to a more relaxed look. “I love your collar, honey.” He kisses her neck, but when I clear my throat, he’s aware I’m here to witness all this weirdness.
“Ah, yes, Ms. Lipton. Welcome to my new club. I say my club because I run it and I own a part of it, but the other owner would like to meet you.” My wide eyes have to look as if they can pop from their sockets at any moment. “You’re a little shell-shocked, Ms. Lipton. Go ahead and ask your questions before we enter the club.”
Of course, this conversation has to take place in the scorching hot heat of a Chicago summer. “Um, let me order them in importance because right now, there are a fuck ton,” I begin, and the slight turn of Mr. Hotness’s smile tells me he’s amused.
“Go ahead, but get your foul words out of your system now because the boss doesn’t like being sworn at, but believe me, he will swear at you.”
I ignore this statement. In the order of importance, it’s not one, not yet.
“Okay, for starters, what is this place? It doesn’t look like a club but it does look like a palace.” My eyes take in the white brick with at least twenty windows for both the main level and the second floor. Shit, I think there’s a third story, too. The landscaping is immaculate as trees line the pathway to the house.
“Okay, I can see why this is at the top of the list. This is his fifth club. He has one in Los Angeles, New York, London, and Seattle. It’s a premiere club for the rich who require certain criteria in the bedroom. And it’s for those who love to submit.”
My hands reach my lips, and they have to be trembling. My whole body is. “You mean, like S & M?”
He turns his attention down to Kira, and they both share a little smile between them. “Ms. Lipton, you say this as if it’s the most shameful sort of life. It’s sex, my dear. Sex is natural and should be enjoyed in a mutually beneficial way.”
Rubbing the back of my head, I keep my eyes closed, giving me a chance to understand this. Well, fuck, I’m speechless. Giving my brain a second to catch up to my reality, I finally stutter out, “So, Kira is your sub?”
“Yes, she is.”
“And she asked you to do her a favor?” Now, my mind has returned to its semi-clear status, but this day has been a whirlwind, and I’m not sure if the head on my shoulders is working clearly. Is this really my reality?
He pulls her close to his body. “Well, Kira, here, has a soft spot for you, and because I have a soft spot for her, it was easy to help you.”
Mr. Hotness is also Mr. Sweetness. “I appreciate this, but BDSM is not somethin
g I understand or agree with.” I stand my ground, but of course, how will I stand my ground tomorrow when I am penniless and homeless?
“Your statement is only half true, Ms. Lipton. You can’t disagree with something you don’t know anything about.” He’s right. “Plus, I know you really don’t have any choice. But rest assured, we aren’t pushing you into anything. You’ll be given a job in the restaurant. My boss, the full owner, has agreed to certain exceptions and expectations of you. Let’s get out of this heat. I’m taking some time with my girl here while you’re meeting with the big boss man.” He deposits me in front of a downstairs receptionist’s desk as Mr. Hottie and my new roomie almost run upstairs with their minds most obviously on sex.
A woman in her late twenties cascades down the stairs in a sterling choker similar to my own. This clears up the reason for this life-choking device. I won’t ever belong to anyone, nor do I expect to be—fucking ever.
“Ms. Lipton, I am K…actually, you may call me Nina,” she begins, in the tallest heels I’ve ever seen anyone wear and a tight pencil skirt.
“Um, so your name isn’t Nina?”
A shy smile covers her face as she wipes the black wisps that fall on her almost white complexion. “No, but it’s what I am now called here.” Following her, I walk up the steps behind her, trying not to pop a boob out of this dress of Kira’s. I’m not one to normally pull off this chic and posh look. Kira’s heels dig into my feet because they are at least a half size too small.
In front of the banister is Nina’s desk with double doors closed behind. “Mr. Westbrook told me that you can show yourself in once you’re here.”