WaitingforDessert

by Chastity Vicks

  Waiting For Dessert

  Chastity Vicks

  Vivienne doesn’t mix business with pleasure, and she likes things done her way. When she’s asked to host a dinner party for her colleagues on the same night as she’d planned a play date with her sub, Ash, Vivienne is one irritable Domme. But she soon comes up with a plan that means she can have her cake and eat it too…

  Constrained by secrecy and distance, Vivienne and Ash’s relationship has many rules. At the point where sensual femdom meets explosive passion, Vivienne must reconcile her hunger for Ash’s submission with a little level-headedness. After all, BDSM in the bedroom is one thing, but is keeping her lover tied up while she plays hostess downstairs pushing their shared kinks too far?

  As Vivienne tests her submissive’s control against the fear of discovery, they’ll both discover exactly how hard it can be…waiting for dessert.

  A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Waiting for Dessert

  Chastity Vicks

  Chapter One

  Vivienne hated the idea immediately but there wasn’t much point in arguing.

  Amanda had backed her into a corner—very skillfully, Vivienne had to admit, because if there was one thing her boss knew about it was manipulation—and Vivienne couldn’t have said no without it sounding like an admission of defeat. The woman was smiling brightly at her, all glossy blonde hair and razor-sharp green eyes, and there was no way out of this one, damn it.

  Initially she’d thought Amanda just wanted to talk about a forthcoming business conference upstate, but no, it was nothing as simple as that. One little beckoning gesture across the hallway, one polite “Miss Huang, do you have a moment?” and bam! here Vivienne was in Amanda’s pristine, airy office with her black pumps sinking into the thick oatmeal carpet, being asked to host dinner for twelve people. It was like the scene in a horror movie where the psycho leaps out with a knife, except instead of a shiny blade, Vivienne had found herself being threatened with the specter of a hundred tiny canapés.

  At least the shiny blade might have been fun…

  “I know it’s a lot to ask,” Amanda said, that big white smile dipping at the edges as a look of concern crossed her face. “But you’re amazing in the kitchen, and you did host that wonderful party after we completed the Laurel Hill project, so… What do you think? I’d love to give Mr. Reyes a really positive last impression of the team, but if it’s too much of an imposition, please just say so. I mean, we could always book at a restaurant or something.”

  Vivienne tilted her chin up and met her boss’s cool, composed gaze with an equally calm, confident smile. The subtext between the two women hung in the air like static electricity.

  The company was small but strong. They had been responsible for engineering the remodeling and expansion of a string of boutique hotels throughout the Northeast, and the latest had just opened in a blaze of great reviews and trendy celebrity guests. A sense of accomplishment had been rippling through the office but tempered with the knowledge that in this rush of success, someone with a little ambition might just manage to push through and snatch the prize of heading up the next development opportunity.

  The rumors of potential company expansion had been flying for a while and Luis Reyes, the central project manager and the owner’s brother, was making a brief congratulatory visit to the team. Vivienne couldn’t think of a better way to demonstrate how well-equipped she was for a promotion than pulling off a stylish bash that sent her colleagues, her boss and most of all her boss’s boss home happy, well-fed and highly impressed.

  After all, she was far from unused to being in control.

  She took a breath and let her smile widen enthusiastically.

  “I’d be delighted,” she said, which wasn’t strictly true.

  In many ways the dinner party—and the prospect of all the upheaval and effort that would have to go into it—was a horrible idea. Vivienne’s home was her sanctuary and she didn’t look forward to it being invaded by her workmates—business and pleasure were always extremely distinct for her.

  Still, it could be worse, couldn’t it?

  “Wonderful!” Amanda beamed. “Oh, there was one other thing. It really does need to be on the Friday, because Luis will be leaving for Atlanta on Saturday and the Thursday’s no good, so shall we say your place at seven o’clock? I’m sorry to be so specific—I hope you didn’t have anything important planned.”

  Vivienne’s fluid, expert smile became a rictus.

  “No,” she lied. “No, not at all. Nothing I can’t reschedule.”

  “Great!” Amanda’s smile widened even farther than should have been physically possible. “We’ll all be looking forward to it, I’m sure.”

  Yeah. Right. Fantastic.

  They finalized the details and Vivienne left the office, though she was still seething quietly about it as she drove home that evening, partially convinced she should have argued to change the date. Not that she had the slightest intention of telling her boss exactly why she always kept her Friday nights free.

  That would only have caused unnecessary complications.

  * * * * *

  The house had belonged to her aunt. It was large, Victorian and a complete money pit but Vivienne loved it. She loved the space and the tranquility of its being set back from the street, her own little oasis of privacy shrouded by shrubs and magnolias. In summer she could throw open the French doors and have the scent of flowers drift across the deck and into the kitchen while she cooked, and in winter she could curl up before the mahogany-topped fireplace and bury her nose in cinnamon-dusted hot chocolate, feeling as if the building itself was her own cocoon of warmth.

  It was an integral part of her life and she rarely opened it up to others. Not even to Ash, at least not without restrictions. Every visit he made, she planned. She prepared herself, prepared her home…welcomed him, but on her terms. If she were honest with herself, Vivienne might have admitted that one thing she secretly enjoyed about her relationship with her boy was the fact that they lived a few hours’ drive apart. Every night they spent here together was carefully set aside from the rest of their lives, and she liked it that way.

  They had been falling into a more regular rhythm recently. That was good. It was new, but…good. He would leave work on Friday afternoons—an hour or so early if he could get away with it—and drive down to see her, arriving a little before dinner. They rarely went out. Vivienne liked to cook and, more than that, she liked to cook for him. Those were special, comfortable interludes of domesticity and she relished the chance to hide away with him for the weekend that followed before he rose unspeakably early on Monday morning and disappeared off home again.

  If she was really, truly honest with herself, Vivienne had to admit that she much preferred that arrangement to either of the alternatives. She was just lazy enough to prefer him coming to her than the inconvenience of doing the traveling herself, and besides, Ash physically making the journey—preparing himself for her then climbing into his car and driving for three hours just to reach her—was a thought that got her hot. He was hers, even before he arrived. Doing this for her, with her in his mind… It was an act of devotion she didn’t even have to be present to receive.

  She liked that.

  Equally there was a convenience to it that was altogether more prosaic. Vivienne disliked dating men who lived too close by. She didn’t want to bump into them in the market or the bookstore, and she certainly didn’t relish the prospect of finding out that they shared a mutual friend or acquaintance. Not that she was ashamed of her personal life—far from it—but it would have made things awkward. No, this was a far better system. It kept all the parts of her world neatly segregated and gave her the f
reedom to be who she wanted, when she wanted.

  Exactly the same freedom and fulfillment she provided for Ash.

  She bit her lip as she thought of him on the road, car swishing through the dusky evening toward her, and she paused in the act of brushing out her hair. She would have to explain to him about the dinner party and, two weeks from now, when they should have had their weekend together, he would either have to stay home or not come down until the Saturday.

  That sucked and Vivienne frowned as she tossed the brush back onto her vanity table, finding a petulance in herself like that of a child denied a favorite toy. She flipped her hair back from her shoulders, its smooth black weight falling almost to the band of her wet-look bra top, and reflected that—if she was honest with herself—she supposed that was exactly what Ash was.

  A favorite toy…and so much more.

  She slipped a cotton robe on over her bra and panties—a sensible white cotton wrap that made the ruched black vinyl underwear beneath seem a little kinkier than it really was—and pushed her feet into a pair of neat black leather slippers. Freshly showered, with the stresses of the working week mostly forgotten, she felt relaxed.

  As Vivienne tied the belt of her robe, she glanced around her bedroom, running a brief mental inventory. Clean sheets, candles ready to burn, dinner cooking, hook slipped into the eyebolt on the ceiling and toys all laid out. She always enjoyed seeing Ash’s face when he came upstairs and saw what she had planned for him.

  Tonight she’d secured a few new treasures to play with. The nightstand boasted a couple of soy wax candles and a new glass dildo that looked more like a piece of modern art than a sex toy, along with a black paddle and a small suede flogger. In the center of the bed, lying like a twisted rose petal against the pale gray coverlet, was a selection of soft nylon rope, dyed a deep burgundy-red. It had arrived in the mail in the middle of the week and Vivienne had spent an enjoyable half hour of preparation cutting and tying it to the lengths she wanted and neatly sewing in the ends. She liked to have wrist and ankle cuffs prepared ahead of time so all she had to do was slide them over her boy’s limbs, cinch them in and secure them to the bed.

  Ash did love his rope, and it was a treat for them both—something that little bit more sensuous and premeditated than the neoprene or leather restraints Vivienne kept in her nightstand.

  She smiled to herself. Yes, a little treat but nothing extravagant, nothing crazy…and there would be other opportunities for her to play dress-up. They didn’t do that often, choosing to reserve the theatricality for special occasions. While she possessed plenty of corsets, stockings, boots and gloves, she felt oddly vulnerable in the whole “porn domme” getup, as if she risked being reduced to the fantasy that Ash wanted her to be. That seemed a real danger sometimes, especially because of the distance thing, and she would often find herself wondering what went on in his head when they weren’t together. Oh, they talked, texted and emailed regularly during the times they spent apart and video calls were a godsend, but was she ever less than a complete individual in his eyes? It had happened in the past.

  More than one ex had wanted her to be his projection of a dominant woman—hell, the Asian thing had even come into it once—and that pissed Vivienne off wildly. After all, a sub who tried to make her into what he wanted wasn’t genuinely submitting in the first place. And she desperately wanted that not to be true of Ash. She needed it, she supposed. Needed to believe he wanted to give himself—submit himself—in all the ways that she wanted to have him.

  Still, maybe sometimes she was just the fantasy on the end of the phone line, the weekend away that sustained him through the gray mundanity of the working week. Vivienne wasn’t sure whether she was okay with that. She had been once, but now?

  She pushed the thoughts from her head when she heard a familiar engine purr into the driveway below her window and a smile slunk across her face.

  * * * * *

  Ash always rang the doorbell when he arrived. He didn’t need to—he had a key—but it was just one of the little rituals they had.

  Vivienne’s delicate slippers whispered lightly on the floor as she moved to the door, trying to squelch the more obvious signs of her impatience. When she opened it, she wanted to be the perfect image of composure and control…and yet she wanted him so much she was practically snarling with anticipation, ready to wrench the door right off its hinges just to get at him.

  Ash stood on the porch, the outside light gilding his dark-blond hair with a corona of soft gold. In black jeans, with a cord jacket and navy-blue cable scarf over a pale-gray sweater, he was bundled up against the early spring chill. The cold air had nipped color into his cheeks and nose. He smiled widely and his lean, angular face lit up as creases formed beneath his soft hazel eyes. He’d brought her flowers—a bunch of stargazer lilies whose sweet perfume filled the air between them.

  Vivienne nodded approvingly, unable to contain her own smile. “Hello, sweetie.”

  Still smiling, Ash bowed his head just a little, his gaze never leaving hers.

  “Hello, Miss.”

  The first twinge of desire—the real, concrete flicker of pleasure that only his presence and not just the idle dream of him could provide—tugged impatiently at the pit of her stomach.

  “You may come in.”

  Vivienne reached out her hand, her pink-polished fingertips closing on his wrist as she drew him across the threshold, pulling him close. It took virtually no effort. He knew how to read her instructions now, knew her rules and most of her desires…knew how to obey them so well.

  The door closed behind him and she pushed him against the wall, forcing herself up on tiptoe to kiss him, the lilies releasing a waft of fragrance as they were crushed between them. His skin was cold from the night air, his lips firm and dry, and his face—as he knew she preferred—was freshly smooth-shaven, with the faintest scent of soap still on his skin.

  Ash stayed still and pliant as Vivienne pressed her lips to his. She was gentle at first, just letting her mouth mold to his in a small, sweet gesture of affection, until he began to grow in confidence and tried to pucker up for more. She parted his lips with her tongue then, claiming his mouth in a forceful, greedy embrace and relishing the low sound that broke from his throat as a soft exhalation of need and desire.

  At that she pulled away abruptly, smiling afresh at the hazy look that flittered across his face. The rich aroma of the cannelloni she’d prepared for dinner fringed the air and Ash’s stomach growled loudly. It broke through the moment and they both grinned—he apologetically and she fondly—before Vivienne suggested going in to eat.

  “I’ll get a vase for these,” she added, taking the flowers from him and leading the way to the kitchen…as she always did.

  Chapter Two

  Over dinner and a bottle of shiraz, their conversation rambled warmly across the minutiae of their separated lives—from work to family, friends, current events and stupid things they’d both seen online or on TV—and touched the heels of seriousness with a few discussions of news stories.

  Vivienne had almost forgotten about needing to mention the dinner party but she brought it up while she was at the kitchen counter, decanting two zabaglione cheesecake slices into dishes and garnishing liberally with some small, sweet winter strawberries. The stargazer lilies, set in a green glass vase near the window, exuded a rich perfume and provided a splash of bright color against the room’s neutral tones.

  “Oh?”

  Ash turned in his chair, one arm propped across the back as he looked questioningly at her. His lean, strong fingers curled lightly against the deep-golden pine and she couldn’t help but notice the pleasing asymmetry of his position with his weight on one arm, his waist stretched out and his expression so alert.

  Pretty. I might tie him like that later.

  “It’s a bore,” she said, turning back to the desserts. “All people from work…so that’s Christina, Derek, Jay, Ian and Amanda—plus their plus-ones—and this Reyes guy
. I think I have my work cut out.”

  “And this is next week?” Ash grinned. “Hmm. Sounds like you need a sous chef. I’m pretty handy with the slicing and dicing.”

  Vivienne smiled as she brought the dishes to the table. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

  At that moment, it didn’t sound ambiguous to her. She meant it playfully and she thought Ash understood that. She thought he understood her rule about keeping personal and professional separate and that he’d appreciate she didn’t really want to introduce him to her workmates or present any aspect of their relationship for public comment.

  She knew what that would mean. Gossip in the office and the smiling tattle of other people. All those things that her workmates talked about amongst themselves and said in fun, but that fell like empty shells on the reflections of Vivienne’s life. They chatted about boyfriends, husbands, wives, girlfriends and their talk was littered with the casual humor of stand-up comics—the games and the stereotypes of modern life and modern dating—and that was as foreign to her as kink was to them. Their perceptions, she knew from conversational experience, were based on books and movies and they would think her life was like that. They would imagine all kinds of things and she would be reduced to at best a subject of gossip and at worst the butt of jokes and prejudice.

  Sometimes Vivienne told herself that was merely her own nervousness talking. She should have no qualms about having pride in all aspects of her life. Hell, if she’d been gay, she would never have hidden it! But perhaps that was different. She wondered at that, and at all those notions of what was “different” and what was “deviant”, and yet none of her speculation made her any more inclined to come out in public as a wielder of whips and control.

  Anyway it wasn’t just her. If people knew she had a partner of any kind, Vivienne suspected they would begin to ask irritating questions, and if they met her boy, they might well connect him with the IT firm he worked for, which was intermittently involved in the same promotions and projects as her company. It would only lead to more questions, and several of those would probably be more difficult for Ash to field than for her.