Temptation (Dungeon Elite Book 1)

by Leigh Lennon

  Ah, now the little lady is going to cover my dish with Saran wrap and put it in the microwave for me. Why can’t she submit to me, get it over with, and move on? At this point, I’ll still honor her bet. I want her for one night. She’d be the perfect submissive, and for the one time we’re together, I can show her so much. Then I can go back to Sora and Ariel. My text alerts me again when I realize even in my thoughts, I’m lying to myself.

  My Kitten: Hey, could you let me know what you’re doing. I mean, it’s only polite, Sir.

  The sarcasm is evident even through the phone. Oh, she’s getting pissed, and I need her to remain pissed. I want her to see what she’s missing, and the excitement of this life, but right now, this whole thing has gotten too cute, and I am not cute. I don’t fucking do cute. I toss my phone down after I turn it off. I can’t see anything else from her.

  Greer sits near me. “Hey, I thought you were heading to your house.” The little smirk on his face tells me Jared has told him more about my little temptation than I thought. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you?”

  A bourbon is in my hands. Not looking at his smug face, I retort. “Don’t you have a DA to go try to fuck?” I ask.

  “Oh, all in good time, I’m getting him ready for me. You know what they say. I can turn anyone to the dick.”

  I laugh so hard at him. “This is what they say? Are you sure?”

  “Fucking positive.” He moves his body to my line of sight. “So, this chick, Eve, what is it about her?”

  I take a long swig of my drink, then reply, “She’s nothing. Just a woman who will kneel to me, then I’ll fuck her, and that will be it.”

  He chuckles. I’ve always been the closest to Greer and Jared. “First off, you never have to chase tail. It comes naturally, and chicks flock to you. So stop with the bullshit and tell me what makes this chick different.”

  Me and the boys, we aren’t like this. We are men—we don’t boo-hoo over our lives. We discuss men stuff. Sex and alcohol and a fuck ton more sex and maybe sports. All of us are more wealthy than we can imagine. Sure, I have the most money, but my boys have a buy-in at the clubs, and I take care of them. Their annual salaries are a million dollars plus the royalties they get from the twenty percent each guy owns in their particular club, which had been a gift from me.

  “With Eve, I’m not used to having something I can’t have. So let’s drop it, Greer,” I almost yell at him.

  “Okay, you motherfucker, you think because your parents didn’t love you like you should have been loved—that makes you unlovable? And you act like a scary motherfucker. But you paid for our tuition, for all of us to go to school together. You disobeyed your dad and turned down Harvard to go to UCLA to stay with us. And you gave us ownership in the clubs when you didn’t need to.” Greer has four percent ownership in each club to make it even. “And you were there when Maddox’s dad passed away and when Jared watched his sister succumb to cancer. You didn’t leave his side.” He takes a long swig of his signature gin and tonic and continues. “When any of us are at odds, you corner us and make us talk it out so we’ll always stay seven strong. And whenever Gio and Anton decide to have a twin fight, you push them to work it out together. And fuck, we’ve been more to each other than friends. We’re brothers, so I’m here to tell you. You could be flushing something good away. Fucking good.” He stands. He’s done, in his counselor mode, making his argument—and a fucking good argument at that.

  I power my phone back on before leaving the club. Of course, it looks as if Greer has gotten in my phone, changing my lock screen to a picture I snapped of Eve on Lady Luck the other day at Grams’ farm. My eyes are laser focused on her picture. She had no idea I took it, and with the natural beauty of my grams’ property, it’s nothing compared to Eve.

  I’m now in a hurry to get to my kitten. I need to see her and, fuck do I want to hold her. My lips form a broad ass smile, when I pull up all my messages, and there are ten plus texts from her. She’s at various states of anger with each new one. In the privacy of my car I keep at the club when I’m not in LA, I begin to read them, but my heart falls with each new one.

  The last one gets my attention, more than the others.

  My Kitten: Okay, you strive to be an ass. You earned your money today. I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me up, Sir.

  The last part is added for good measure to ensure she’s not left leaning over my lap.

  Now, this is a challenge—not to wake her up—but then a thought occurs to me. She cooked dinner. I had no food in the kitchen. How the hell did she get groceries? Now I’m equally pissed. If she left my home, she’s in big trouble.

  I let myself into the house, and the aroma calls me to the kitchen. I want to be an asshole to her so I don’t feel bad for standing her up. I shouldn’t feel bad. I told her I wasn’t sure when I’d be home, and now, I’m standing near the microwave in the kitchen, looking at the plate she’d made for me. In my hunger, I find remorse, too.

  On the plate, with the Saran wrap covering it, is a little note.

  Chadwick, Sir:

  You’ve been nothing but an ass to me today. Making me sit in coach, just to make a point. I understand—it’s not like I can afford first class—but you did it to be mean, and when I think you’re being nice by leaving bath salts for my pleasure, I wanted to repay you. Sure, I didn’t obey your command. I don’t need to. We’ve been through this, but I made this for you to repay a little for a roof over my head and a job. You even opened up a little about your friends. I’m not sure what I do to deserve your wrath, but I can wait it out. I’m great at ignoring fucking assholes, Sir.

  Eve

  Pulling out my plate, I uncover it and reheat the pasta. After one bite, I know she doesn’t just know how to cook, but she put love in this dish. Well, fuck, I sound like a girl, but it’s what my body needs after all the booze I had drowned myself in tonight, in my attempt to temper my feelings for Eve.

  On my second bite, I’m startled when I hear, “I kind of hope you choke on it.” A noodle is hanging from my mouth, and I wink her way, slurping it up through my lips.

  “Classy,” she starts. A glass of wine is in her hand, and when I look closer at her beauty, her eyes are puffy.

  “Kitten, have you been crying?” Why does my heart lurch at this idea?

  “Yes, Sir. See, there’s this asshole who is trying his best to make me feel like complete shit. For someone who wants to win me over to this lifestyle, it only pushes me further away.”

  I push the plate of goodness away from me and approach her. “Kitten.” What do I say? Am I sorry? Yes, one look at the eyes that physically hurt me, I’m so fucking sorry. But to say the words, letting them form on my lips, is quite another thing.

  “What, Chadwick? I have ten more days. And I’m not just staying for the hundred G’s but the job. And when I’m done with this ridiculous bet, I’m out of here. You’ve pushed me too far tonight, and you’re lucky your kitten isn’t about to claw your eyes out, Sir.” She walks out of the kitchen, and my eyes follow her until she’s out of my sight. Greer is right. This girl is much more to me than I’ve ever been able to admit.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eve

  I wake to a note next to my bed, grabbing it immediately.

  Kitten,

  Pamper yourself today, and when I say that, I mean it. Breakfast will be on the terrace. It’s a beautiful day. After that, I have a masseuse coming in for the morning. Then I’m going to treat you to an iconic California pleasure. I wasn’t here last night to spoil you, and I regret that. Let me do it now, starting with a bath. I’m new at this. I don’t do apologies, Kitten, but with you, I seem to do all things that are new to me. I’m sorry.

  CW

  This man must really like the idea of me taking baths. When I make my way to my bathroom, it’s decked out with more than just bath salts. Calla lilies take up almost every bit of counter space of my room. Tea lights set the ambiance, and a new robe with my name hangs
on the towel holder. I’m in deep concentration and don’t hear the taps of the door, or for permission to enter my relaxed domain. “Kitten? You okay in there?” His voice is elevated.

  “Chadwick, Sir?” I’ve not received a spanking, and I’m trying to keep it that way. My fear is with one touch of his hand on my bare ass, I’ll surrender to all his depravity. And this has now turned into my own fantasy. I’d be screwed. It’s the issue, the fact I want him to screw me, to drill me, and to claim me. Shit, but my hardheaded nature will win out. It needs to. This money is my ticket to a new life—one that I’ll covet once my head is clear of all the crazy shit he has me craving.

  “Kitten, can I come in?” His question is sincere, like his note. “You must be covered with bubbles. I’d like to come in for a second.”

  My mind is screaming, Retreat, abort, mission over. But the cunt of a bitch betraying me lets my mouth form the words. “Sure, come on in, Sir.”

  He sits down on the edge of the tub and brings my hand to his mouth. “I wish those bubbles would disappear.” His words have a commanding tone to them, ordering the bubbles to dissipate, and I’m surprised they don’t obey.

  “Good try. Just because most people listen to you doesn’t mean the bubbles covering the finer areas of my body will,” I tease, and the hint of his eyes are greedy. I wait for him to step over the line, but he doesn’t. I sometimes wonder what I really want from him.

  “Kitten, I’m not sure how to proceed with you.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, in ten days, it’ll be over, and we can go our separate ways,” I add, not reaching his eyes with my own.

  “Is that what you want, Kitten?” he asks.

  “After you treated me like a bag of shit yesterday? Yes, Sir.”

  He nods, standing up to retreat, and it’s the first time hurt can be seen in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll let you be until breakfast.”

  His voice is not the commanding tone I’m used to. “Hey, Chadwick?” He doesn’t stop me or reprimand me for not addressing him as Sir.

  “Yeah, Kitten?” he asks.

  “Thanks for this.”

  He turns around, and this time, his eyes roam over my whole body. “Sure thing, Kitten.”

  And he’s gone. At this moment, something has changed, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.

  Breakfast on the terrace is beautiful. When I ask about the raid yesterday, his chuckle and the bob of his Adam’s apple have me clenching my legs together. “Our lawyer has a woody for the district attorney who wants to close us down. It’s quite funny. Greer is used to getting his way, but fuck, I think he’s screwed in this scenario, and not the way he wants to be.”

  It’s hard to explain how this man makes me feel at ease one moment—as is the case now—yet can push me to be a fire-breathing dragon in the next. “Kitten?” he asks. His tone is smooth but has me opening my eyes, trying to tell my body it’s not time to come out.

  “Yes?”

  “When do you think you’ll give in to this? Into us?” I’ve never heard the vulnerability, the shakiness in his voice as I do now. Oh, if he only knew what I wanted from him in the here and now. There’s no future with him. He’s already told me that’s what he does; he moves on with a new sub. My dream of a family has always been drilled into me as a young girl when my dad took me to the liquor store. I guess he was decent enough not to leave me at home by myself at the age of six. But I’d see happy couples with their children, holding their hands, laughing and smiling with them.

  “Chadwick?” I question, and he doesn’t correct me for the second time today with not using the title of Sir. “You can’t give me what I want, and I can’t give you what you want.”

  He leans forward, the bubbles of the champagne clouding my mind.

  “Kitten, what is it you want?”

  The one and only question that matters is now before me. I want more than he can give me. Yet I can’t give him the one thing he wants. With the minutes I spend with him, it becomes more apparent that he could never be just sex to me. After over two weeks together, he’s an ass I’ve developed feelings for.

  “I want to be unconditionally loved with a family and children. In this lifestyle, it’s not something I could even fathom.” I stop, a tear falling from my eyes. “And I can’t give you what you want, Chadwick.”

  “And I will ask you this again, Kitten. What is it you think I want?”

  “You want my complete submission without a commitment. You want to use me as you’d like and to dispose of me when you’re done.”

  He grips the bridge of his nose all while his eyes are closed. “Well, Kitten, you need a better education of how submission works, but for today, we’re taking a break. You and me, we’re going on a date. After your massage, get your sweet ass ready. Be sure to wear jeans and comfy shoes.” He leaves me, so I can’t answer him. I think this had been his point.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chadwick

  I have the top down on my Lamborghini, speeding down I-10 as if I don’t have a care in the world. For starters, this is really the first date I’ve ever taken a girl on. Not just any girl but the girl. Grabbing her hand, I interlace our fingers, and she doesn’t pull away. The words I can’t give you what you want swim through my mind but not as much as you can’t give me what I want do.

  Ten more days are what I have left to woo her. Fuck the money. I’ll null and void that fucker I had her sign—fully giving her the hundred G’s, but then she’d leave, and I’d never see her again. And I wonder what about this girl makes me want her in a way I’ve wanted no other person in this world.

  She’s watching the scenery as we whip by, and I wonder what she’s thinking. She knows shit about California, and I haven’t told her where we are going. But in a light blue tank top and a pair of skinny jeans and her blue Converse, I love this side of her. She’s just as sexy in her sneakers as she is in the four-inch heels she wears for me. But I won’t tell her I think she’s cute in her beloved Converse.

  “Kitten?” I ask, and she’s stopped asking me not to call her this.

  “Yes, Sir?” she asks, and it hits me that she still calls me Sir.

  “We’re leaving tomorrow for Seattle, then New York after that. When we get back to Chicago, you’ll only have six days left on your contract.”

  Her head turns to the side, and I can’t see her face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “You can stay and work at the club, if you’d like,” I offer. A day ago, I was making her sit in coach to make my point that I’m in charge, but after Greer’s words in the club and her tears from yesterday, I understand how fragile our time together really is.

  “So, will you make me fly coach?” Fuck, I can’t help messing with this girl even though she’s all I think about.

  “I may, depends if you are a good girl.”

  She pushes away her honey brown hair that flies into her eyes. “And are we going to the club in Seattle since we aren’t visiting the one here?”

  “Ah, Kitten, you’re missing my kinks at the club, are you?” I turn off the freeway, where she can see our destination.

  “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, Sir.” Her eyes are big, and she squeezes my hand hard as a small little giggle escapes her mouth. “I’m a California virgin. And you bring me to the most iconic place.” Something so kid like transforms in her, and I’m left speechless with her eyes on the Santa Monica pier.

  After parking as near to the pier as we can get, she makes a beeline to it, dragging me with her. “Kitten, it’s not going anywhere.” I underestimate her excitement over something I take for granted, having grown up here.

  She’s like a little kid with a smile plastered on her face, hopping up and down on her feet. It occurs to me that I know little about her life, about the life she led that brought her to me. I never believed in fate, not before this.

  With tickets in my hand, we’re at the Pacific Wheel first. I lean down, slipping the operator a fifty-dollar bill. “Let us sta
y up a bit longer, will you?” It’s more a demand than a question.

  “Sure thing, Sir.” Eve slips me a curious glance. But I have plans. Oh, do I have plans.

  The second we are cruising up the wheel, cocking her head to the side, she asks, “What was that for, Sir?”

  Shrugging, I admit, “I want more time alone with you.” A suspicious smile appears on her face. “What? You don’t believe me?”

  She closes her eyes as if forming the next part of her thought process is hard. A sly smirk accompanies her answer. “It’s not that, it’s just…hell, I never know what to expect from you. Ever! One day, you do this. You’re always threatening to spank me, but you don’t, and then on other days, you’re the biggest a-s-s-h-o-l-e there is.”

  I guess by spelling the word, she’s not disobeying my rule of no swearing. “First, you bring up the spanking line as though you’re disappointed I’ve not yet put you over my knee?” Her chuckle greets my ears, and I don’t know what to make of it. “And yes, I’m a fucker. It’s in my DNA, and quite honestly, I’m not a nice man, so you’ve seen it in quantity compared to others that I allow to be a part of my private life.”

  “What is it you want to know or talk about since we will have plenty of time?” she asks, her hands on her chin. Leaning down just a touch, I see almost all her tits except her nipples, and shit, my brain becomes foggy for a second.

  She looks down at my view and laughs. “Get a good enough peek?” she asks.

  “Fuck no. Not until those bad boys are freed will I have gotten a good enough view,” I tease but change my tone. “Your family? Where are you from? I know very little about you, Kitten, and I want to know more.”

  Immediately, her gaze turns toward the waves of the ocean. It doesn’t take long to deduce her shitty childhood she’s shared with me in small snippets before. “Kitten, three things. Just start with three things.”