His Pleasures and Pain (Book II) (Allen Trilogy 2)

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His Pleasures and Pain (Book II) (Allen Trilogy 2) Page 4

by Chevelle Allen


  “Thanks again, Mr. Willis.” Michael handed him a ten-dollar tip and headed up the main elevators to his new home.

  Setting the cart outside his door, he grabbed a few boxes and stepped inside the modest foyer of his condo. He liked the functionality of the simple table near the entry closet. Opening the closet, he set the boxes inside before grabbing more until his task was complete. He called Mr. Willis, closed the door and made his way towards the sunken living area to his right. He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out. While more expensive, he was glad he purchased a corner unit. The views seemed more dynamic given the lovely spring day. On the street below, people hurried about their business, while in the distance he could see the Washington Monument.

  He turned around to survey the gourmet kitchen area and for the first time noticed the gift baskets sitting on the island counter. Opening the first, he chuckled noting it was filled with travel-sized cleaning supplies and other knickknacks one presumably needed after moving. Tucked in the corner of the basket was a note from the owners’ association, welcoming him to the building. The few times he came to inspect the work of sub-contractors, it was usually fairly early in the morning before heading into work. He hadn’t met many of his new neighbors yet— only the seven a.m. doorman, Mr. Giles. For the most part, he was fine with that. He assumed he’d meet the other residents in due time.

  The other basket was from his interior designer. It was filled with exotic hard cheeses, crackers, grapes, chocolates and exquisite selections of red and white wines. He opened the crackers sampling a few before reminding himself he’d need to head out for a few essential grocery items later. Uncorking and pouring a glass of the white wine, he felt fortunate to have found Jocelyn. She took care of everything, even the glass he now held in his hand. She came highly recommended and proved herself talented, discreet and worth every dollar he paid.

  Jocelyn Daniels was one of the edgier yet highly respected interior designers in the D.C. market. Once he’d made the decision to purchase the condo, he meticulously scoured style and design magazines to find looks appealing to him. After contacting each of the designers to interview, it didn’t take him long to choose her. In their early negotiations she proved herself attentive to details, constantly sketching when they talked about his ideas and needs.

  Unlike other designers he interviewed, Jocelyn quickly grasped his interest to incorporate his love of deep, rich woods while keeping the space bright, warm and inviting. Listening almost intuitively to everything he wanted, she conceptualized the kind of space reflective of his tastes. The design made any guest to his home feel welcomed and at ease. But the key selling point about Jocelyn was how she easily designed the custom bedroom furniture he requested. It was comfortable, functional but also served a particular purpose not easily recognizable.

  “I’m sorry, you need your headboard to do what?” she asked him.

  “I need to be able to secure things to it from time to time. So whatever device that is, it must be highly durable,” he replied.

  “I see. Have you considered a traditional brass or iron railed bed? They work well for…securing things,” she said fully understanding what he was asking of her.

  He tilted his head slightly, giving her his gorgeous broad smile. While looking her squarely in the eyes he said, “Yes, but the problem with those is they’re a little rough if you repeatedly bump your head on them. I think something padded would be best. Can you make that happen?”

  “Of course I can. Is there a particular wood you prefer? Light, medium or dark?” she said with a devilish grin on her face.

  Her double entendre was fairly obvious so he simply said, “I like them all—though I am partial to darker tones.”

  “At least that means you’re open to other possibilities,” she said with a slight blush.

  He just smiled as they continued their business together. Over the course of a few months, they worked out all the details of the design work. She oversaw all of the work from the fabrication of the custom furniture to scheduling movers and house stagers who handled all the books, clothes and other personal effects.

  With wine glass in hand, he headed down the hallway towards the spare bedroom converted into an office space. Although there were no windows in this room, he was pleased with how the massive shelves still provided a sense of openness from the soft curves and artwork. With anchored ladders that rolled on tracks, the shelves reached the full twelve-foot height of the ceilings.

  Carefully inspecting how the movers had arranged his books, he was impressed by their attention to detail. His legal tomes were arranged precisely while his fiction and nonfiction books were ordered according to genre as well as author. There was also plenty of room remaining to add to his collection. His new desk was functional without being overwhelming with a plush, ergodynamic chair. By all indications, it would work out just fine.

  Leaving the office and heading further down the hall, he peeked into the bathroom. The towels and wash clothes had been rolled and stacked in wicker bins. He couldn’t help but wonder if the same attention to detail had been carried out in his walk-in closet. He was not disappointed. His suits were nicely arranged by weight and color. His boxed shirts were neatly stacked according to color as well. All his shoes fit neatly into lined cubbies near the floor. His casual sweaters, jeans and other clothes were neatly arranged in shelves and drawers. Paying to have his home move-in ready was perhaps the best decision despite the fact the cost was considerably higher than a standard relocation.

  As he walked into the master bedroom, he noted how elegant yet contemporary the room looked. The mahogany furniture with its soft cream leather inserts and nickel-plated accents created just the right mood for either a restful slumber or an erotic adventure. Despite his initial concerns about the platform bed Jocelyn recommended, the slight height adjustment by a few inches proved perfect. Sitting on it, the mattress was plush yet firm. He slowly ran his fingers along the soft padded headboard with its anchored accent rings. Yes, this is going to work just fine, he thought.

  He returned to the foyer to get his duffle bags. He brought them back to the bedroom and set them on the bed before unzipping them. In a corner adjacent to the bed stood the seven-foot-high bureau; drawers near its base held his underwear and socks. Above them, the simple carved cabinet doors were locked with a small key. He carefully turned the key and pulled back the doors revealing the hooks, racks and smaller drawers inside.

  He opened the little velvet-lined drawer and one by one, he removed vibrators and plugs of various sizes from the duffle bag and laid them in rows in the drawers. Next, he removed leather and wooden paddles along with floggers of varying lengths and hung them all on the hooks. His leather crops and feather ticklers were hung beside them. He gathered the handcuffs along with other restraining devices and hung them meticulously on the racks on the interior side of the doors.

  Perfect he mused as he set the box of condoms and lubricants inside before closing and locking the doors. He picked up his wine glass from the nightstand and returned to the kitchen to refill it. Glass refreshed, he headed over to the sofa and turned on the large screen television above the gas log fireplace. Reviewing the program guide, he searched for something to pacify his time when his cell phone rang. It was Jocelyn.

  He answered cheerfully. “Hello.”

  His voice was resonant, but not particularly deep. His pacing was deliberate, yet it had a calming tenor, capturing his intelligent mind and thoughtful composure.

  “Hello, Michael!” Jocelyn’s vocal quality reflected her professionalism but it was also warm and engaging. “I hope you’re pleased with the work I did for you.”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “As a matter of fact I was going to call you. Everything is perfect. I couldn’t imagine better service all the way around. Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “By the way, I really appreciate the gift basket. The wine is superb, I’m enjoying some now as
a matter of fact.”

  “I’m glad you like it. For reasons I’ll never understand—your homeowners association still gives those less than inspired cleaning product baskets to new residents. A bit tacky really.”

  Michael chuckled, “I guess if people haven’t been taken care of as well as you’ve treated me, they might need those items.”

  “So you’re pleased?” she asked.

  “Very.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” she paused slightly before continuing. “Pleasing you is important to me.”

  Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have thought twice about what she said, but there was a nuanced change to her voice. He prided himself on being acutely aware of the subtleties women displayed to him. She was an attractive woman at least ten to fifteen years older than him but it didn’t matter in the least. However, he had a general rule—he never slept with women he worked with. Without a doubt, Jocelyn became curious about his sexual proclivities during the course of their interactions. Over time, he had learned this was a potentially volatile combination. If he miscalculated how curious women responded to him things could get tricky. He wanted to be sensitive to and respect the risk she took by putting herself out there to him.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Jocelyn. I’d highly recommend your services without hesitation,” he said hoping his choice of words had diffused the situation.

  “Well now that our working relationship has concluded, I was wondering if you’d consider getting together over another bottle of wine. For more…social purposes.”

  He was not expecting her to be so forward. On one level it intrigued him, but on another, he didn’t think it would be worth the trouble. He could lie to her and tell her he was seeing someone, but that wasn’t his style or inclination. Instead, he chose to be honest with her.

  “Jocelyn, I’m really flattered. But as you’re well aware, my tastes are complex. I don’t think you fully understand what being “social” with me means.”

  “Let’s just say, I know how you intend to use that bed of yours,” she said. “Among other things.”

  He had to give her credit for being direct. It was generally rare for women her age unless they were predators. She didn’t strike him as the type, even though his earlier instincts about her were correct.

  “Restraint is just the beginning,” he said toying with her.

  “Oh really? Tell me more,” she flirted.

  He considered engaging with her, but in the end he knew better. “Again, I’m flattered, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. I really hope you’re okay with that.”

  “Of course,” she said with a bit of defeat in her tone that quickly turned, “Well, keep my number handy if you need me again or change your mind about the wine.”

  “I will. Thanks again,” he said as he hung up the phone.

  Admittedly, he was fascinated by her call, but casual sex seldom satisfied him. He needed to connect with a woman on some level and that took time. In all things he was incredibly patient. For the time being he had enough to deal with and had no interest in starting a new relationship of any kind at this point in his life. With his attention squarely on his law practice, it was an emotional distraction he didn’t want. But he couldn’t deny Jocelyn was intriguing. He hadn’t played with the uninitiated in a very long time. It took a different set of skills and attention to their emotional state during training. As it was, he had enough on his hands managing things moving forward with Nikita.

  CHAPTER 6

  Michael checked the time on his cell phone as he rode the elevator up to his office. With his increasing workload, he tried to get to his office no later than seven in the morning. The earlier start gave him a chance to strategize and catch up on any filings or other paperwork demanding his attention. It also was generally quiet and the phones rarely rang. But no matter how early he began his day, he often stayed well past seven or eight in the evening. The rigorous schedule was beginning to wear on him.

  When he arrived at the office, Ricardo was already seated at the reception desk and had a stack of messages waiting for him.

  “Good morning!” Ricardo said with his usual cheerfulness.

  “Good morning. You’re in early.”

  “Slow weekend for me, Mike. I made a pot of coffee. It should be finished by now.”

  Ricardo had been with the firm for almost three years. He was efficient, smart and had impeccable office and paralegal skills. He possessed all the professionalism Michael wanted representing his firm when clients came to call.

  “Thanks. Are the others in yet?” Michael asked.

  “Just Jack. Lacy and Kevin will be in court this morning, but they should be back by noon. I assume Dana will be here by eight or so. I’ll have the conference room set up with water and coffee service for your eight thirty. Do you need anything else?”

  “No, that should be good. Buzz me when the client gets here, okay?”

  “Of course. Oh, and here are the messages that came in for you over the weekend,” he said as he handed Michael several pink message sheets.

  He flipped through them, sighing heavily before handing the majority back to Ricardo.

  “You know what to do with these, right?” he asked.

  He promptly dropped them in the trash before saying, “That ‘Ones to Watch’ article was definitely been great for business. Who knew it would unleash all the single women in the city too,” he said teasingly.

  “Pain in the ass is what it is.”

  “I try to filter the more explicit ones for you. But I have to say, a few had me searching online to figure out what they were talking about!” he said laughing heartily.

  “I doubt that, but I tell you what…you can keep those for yourself.” Laughing, he made his way down the hall to his office.

  “Not my type, boss! Six feet, slender-cut and male works best for me…present company excluded!”

  “Whatever works, man!” he said mildly amused.

  The article had been very good for business—perhaps too good. The firm was swamped with new consultations and clients coming on board as a direct result of it. Like Ricardo, Michael was bewildered by the flood of calls coming from women throughout the D.C. Metro area. Nothing could have prepared him for the onslaught. At first he found it mildly humorous, then it just became annoying.

  The range of women who reached out to him represented every social, economic and racial demographic imaginable. Generally he didn’t mind at all if women made overtures to him, but he preferred equal pursuits. He didn’t like to chase and he definitely didn’t like to be chased. Moving towards one another was more his style. That’s how it was with Janine.

  He met her as a first-year law student in their JD/MBA program. He was taken by her clarity of thought and analysis of legal concepts in the two classes they shared. This woman was no shrinking violet. Instead she was confident and dynamic. When she spoke, she could command the room, not as an overbearing narcissist, but with intelligence and wit. Even when he didn’t agree with her perspective, he knew if she ever set foot in a courtroom or negotiation, she’d be hard to beat. He was drawn to her, but felt it best to keep his distance.

  Each day he spent with her in class or study group, he couldn’t contain his thoughts of her. She had a radiant smile capturing her genuine warmth and compassion for others. Her playful eyes reflected just how curious and optimistic she could be. Janine was beautiful, even though he presumed she wouldn’t consider herself as such. He rarely saw her in makeup and she seemed most comfortable in jeans, and tee or sweat shirts. Her thick, natural curls were often pushed back with a headband. Occasionally she straightened it wearing it in a simple bob as well. Her lush, dark brown skin looked soft and flawless while her slim hips and ample breasts accentuated her somewhat athletic build.

  After a heated debate with her in class, she surprised him by inviting him out for coffee to further their conversation. For the first time, he couldn’t distinguish a woman’s underlyi
ng intent and he was mystified. Unlike their friend Kelly who was a merciless flirt when they first met, Janine seemed genuine in her desire to simply talk—and he liked that about her. There was no pretense to her at all.

  Her initial invitation turned into a routine where they met almost daily to debate, laugh and talk about all manner issues and events. He was tickled when her passions heightened to the point where she’d unconsciously slip into her deep Carolina accent. For him, it signaled her comfort and ease. He loved that she never got offended when he teased her about it. As much as he chided himself for it, the reality was he was falling in love with Janine Powell.

  In his mind it seemed so cliché, the guy who falls for the girl just wanting to be friends. But he began to notice subtle changes in her behavior as well. On occasion, she’d flush uncontrollably when he inadvertently brushed against her. She began to avoid eye contact with him during lulls in their conversation. There was little doubt their friendship had grown to mutual attraction and affection. But the reality was, neither of them knew exactly what to do with those feelings.

  November 20:

  With exams coming up we all went clubbing last night. First time I’ve ever seen Janine like that. She wore this little black dress. My mind was all over the place thinking of how she must feel and taste and all the ways I wanted to fuck her. I even got a damn hard-on while sitting at the table watching her dance. What am I, fifteen? She looked incredible—she is incredible. It’s tricky. Telling her how I feel could mess things up if I’ve misread her. If my instincts are right—I’m in. All in.

  A couple of weeks after the night in the club, they revealed their feelings towards one another. From their first night together, he was pleased she was confident enough to initiate sex—but none surprised she was tentative verbally expressing her needs. In time she became more than expressive with him. What followed was three years of intense emotional vulnerability and sexual exploration unlike any he had ever known. While certain elements of his interests in BDSM crept into their sex lives early on, he paced revealing it to her. He found their time together so fulfilling that thoughts of pursuing dominance and submission became secondary to his desire to simply be with her.

 

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