by Cynthia Dane
“I never thought about it before he brought it up.” Alice paused, words floundering in her mouth. “If I may borrow your confidence for a moment…”
“Of course. Nothing we say here will travel beyond this room.”
“Well, Damon was my first. In many ways.”
Monica considered that for a moment. “I see.” There was no judgment either way in her tone. “That is a very special relationship, then. I cannot say I share that with my husband.”
I knew that too. Alice was late to the gossip mill her husband belonged to, but everyone knew that Monica had been in serious relationships with dominating billionaires before her current husband. One would have never guessed she grew up no more privileged than Alice. “So to that end I cannot say one way or the other about my inclinations in the bedroom.”
“Do you enjoy what you have explored so far with your husband?”
Alice had to stop blushing. Soon she would match the color of the flowers on her dress. There was such a thing as too much coordination, after all. “Yes, I have. I think we’re compatible in that regard, but I have many questions that he cannot answer for me.”
“Of course he can’t. He’s a male Dom. They’re terribly daft in so many ways.”
The deadpan way Monica said that made Alice laugh. “I suppose my main question is how I can pursue a personal lifestyle with him while maintaining egalitarianism in our business ventures. I didn’t even know I would be doing this kind of business until we got more serious.”
“First of all, it’s a fallacy to believe that even in your personal life you still cannot achieve egalitarianism, or as much as it exists. People don’t understand that our lifestyles are about nothing more than finding a unique way to share love and joy in life. Forgive me for relying on my personal experiences, but there is a huge difference between a man who wants to take care of you and one who uses your inclinations for his own sadistic gains.”
Alice didn’t know how to respond to that. Monroe doesn’t want to use me, right? Does he want to take care of me? So far the signs pointed to yes.
“My husband and I are about as deep into the lifestyle as you can get, and it hasn’t affected my own independence any.” Monica pushed aside her empty teacup. “I trust him wholeheartedly. I couldn’t have married the man if I didn’t.”
That was directed right at Alice.
“In turn, he trusts me too. These men tend to have fragile egos and are easily heartbroken, although few will ever admit it. Before me, my husband hadn’t seriously dated in years. He got too close to his former girlfriend and she ended up too overwhelmed. He had to learn to trust me when I said I was fine and knew how to draw hard boundaries.”
“I see.” Right. Hard boundaries. Alice couldn’t go along with everything Monroe wanted. They had to do things she wanted as well. He doesn’t date much either. I thought it was because of what he saw with his parents, but… Perhaps Monroe was afraid of having his heart broken too.
“Some women in our positions forego having a life outside of their lifestyle. If that works for them, I won’t criticize it. I personally wanted to keep working and building up my own capital after I got married. In truth, I only see my husband about half the week. I’m currently on my weekend away from work. Even when I was on maternity leave he still had business to tend to elsewhere. Yet we still manage to have a fulfilling marriage and lifestyle. It’s hard sometimes, yes, but I like to think our dedication to each other makes it easier to bear.”
Should Alice have been taking notes? “I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but I’ve been letting my husband lead everything, since he’s the one with the experience, and…”
“And because he’s charming, persuasive, and used to getting what he wants.”
“How do you think I ended up married to him in such a short amount of time?”
Their conversation over the next twenty minutes was enlightening. Alice only had a vague notion of what truly went into a Dom/sub lifestyle, and most of that came from Monroe’s generous training. I’m still not sure if that’s what I want all the time. Alice drew comfort from his tokens when he wasn’t around, but that didn’t mean she wanted to drop everything she was doing to go serve him. Yet didn’t she enjoy many of those aspects anyway?
Then again, this was the man who was more than happy to dress her up in lingerie and lead her around nightclubs on a leash.
Where did the line between lifestyle and reality draw itself?
Monica couldn’t tell her that. She could only tell Alice that she needed to take a hard look at her needs, wants, and dreams for her life. When she was done psychoanalyzing herself? She needed to keep a firm backbone. Just because she was the submissive in the arrangement didn’t mean she lacked a spine.
“The easiest trap to fall into,” Monica said before Candice finally came back from the bathroom, “is to believe that he runs the show. A good Dom doesn’t believe that himself, and neither should you. It’s a partnership. You both give and take until you find the equilibrium you’re searching for. How much protection do you want? How much service does he want from you? In my relationship, both my husband and I have our own staff who help us in our busy lives, but I see it as my role to be the one who helps him unwind after a long day. It’s cathartic for me as well. What’s the point if you’re not getting joy out of it? Then you really are a servant. You have to decide if it’s worth it to you.”
Alice had almost too much to think about. What was her role in Monroe’s life? In the family’s history? Yes, she was his wife, but how was that defined? Where did her role of wife end and business partner begin? And how much did she want to rely on him to teach her everything, both in and out of the bedroom? Is that even a good idea? It was convenient, but Monroe was merely one opinion out of many. He had the privilege to learn not only from his father (for what that mattered) but to have extensive schooling, absorbing histories and opinions before filtering them through that brilliant brain of his. I have to admit how attracted I am to his confidence and intelligence, but I need to be more discerning about which of his opinions I blindly go along with. That didn’t just serve as a reminder in the corporate world. That applied in their personal life as well. Experience didn’t always trump reality.
Conversation turned again once Candice came back. Monica was more than happy to use what was left of their hour to give a rundown of some clubs and charities Alice might want to check out during her tenure as Mrs. Monroe. Did she enjoy high society chitchat? The country club had been courting the Monroes for years, and Alice may be the first person since Monroe’s grandmother to bridge the gap between society and family. The Lady Warren also had glowing reviews for some other billionaires she considered dear friends… and some dire warnings. Luckily, none of those warnings had shown up on Alice’s list of new business associates.
“So what do you do for a living, Ms. Holt?” At least they were done talking about Alice and how she needed to get used to her new name.
Candice’s teacup shook in her hand, face more than a little grim. She had that clear Oh shit, what do I say? look on her face.
“It’s all right,” Alice said. “I highly doubt Mrs. Warren cares that you’re a filthy pornographer.”
At the very least, Mrs. Warren’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Well,” she began, leaning toward Candice. “Isn’t that interesting?”
“I’m not an actress!” Candice was quick to say. “I work on sets and behind the scenes… oh God, I said behind, didn’t I?”
Monica was not perturbed. “How fascinating.” Alice recognized that look in her hostess’s eyes. If Candice thought Alice was looking mercilessly at some poor newborn baby? Then she had no idea how eager Monica was to devour her after learning such a key piece of information. “I would love to pick your brain sometime, Ms. Holt. Don’t know if you know what business I’m in, but…”
When they left the Warren Estate fifteen minutes later, Alice had more questions than answers, and Candice had a very intere
sting new business prospect.
Chapter 8
Alice sashayed out of the master bath, bottle of lotion in hand. Monroe lay half-dressed, as was usual for him around nine at night, but instead of reading or staring at the TV on the faraway wall, he was glued to his phone.
“Absolutely, Robert,” he said, oozing with charm. Alice sat down on her side of the bed and began judiciously applying lotion to her arms and legs. “We are fully prepared to give you everything you need to be on your way. Or should I say that my wife is?”
Alice glanced at him when he said that. The scent of coconut butter permeated the air.
“You don’t even visit America anymore. No, no, don’t lie to me. You spend all your time in Toronto and Rio. The last time you came here, you were in Hollywood. Let my wife take that property off your hands. What? Of course that would make us co-owners. Didn’t think I had to explain that to you.”
Since she had no idea what was going on, Alice flopped back on the bed and curled up next to her husband. He hasn’t showered yet. Cologne had faded and sweat reigned. Alice didn’t used to appreciate the scent of a man. Not even Matt smelled this good. Oh, man. Matt! If only he could see her now! Shouldn’t have cheated on me. I ended up marrying a billionaire instead of your celibate ass.
“All right, Robert, we’ll deal with this tomorrow. Oh, and think about those shares of yours. Might as well get rid of the whole bag of money while we’re at it.”
Monroe hung up, cell phone plopping on the bed. With a haughty sigh, he wrapped one arm around Alice, his pleased countenance almost too much to bear. He really does think he runs the show, doesn’t he? Alice had already known that, but having Monica’s warning buzzing in the back of her mind put it into a new perspective.
“What was that about?” Alice asked.
“Another surprise I have lined up for you.”
“No, no, you should tell me. I can’t take many more surprises right now.” She had already been surprised by the 2016 BMW i8 sitting in their parking spot downstairs. “Just a little something I picked up for myself, now that you’re using the Town Car.” Alice had been too entranced by the sleek curves of the (black, of course) car to say anything. He better take me for a ride in it, or I’m filing for a divorce.
Monroe entwined his fingers with hers. Alice could think of a few other things they could entwine. After all, they hadn’t had sex yet that day. It would be the first day in what, two weeks? With no sex, that is.
“That was Robert Grove.” Alice vaguely recognized that name. “I’ve arranged it so you’ll be buying his share of The Dark Hour.”
“Whoa.” Alice sat up. “That was the co-owner of the club?”
“Used to be the co-owner of the club. He hasn’t been involved with it for months, though. Time for him to move on. What better person to buy it out than you?”
“With your money.”
“Actually…” Monroe picked up his phone again, tapping on one of his financial apps. “Some of your investments are already coming through. You should check your bank account and portfolio, my love. You’ve probably earned your first million.”
Alice snatched her phone off the nightstand. How do I use this thing? She fumbled with a brand-new phone that she wasn’t yet used to. It took both her and her husband to access her bank account within the next five minutes. When Alice saw the figures, she nearly passed out.
“On top of this good news, there’s something else.” Someone was in a really good mood. A really good mood. “Once the sale is arranged, I’m asking you to become the de facto owner of The Dark Hour. You’re more suited for our properties that hinge on hospitality. There may be others in the future, depending on how things go with my…” He stopped. “Alice?”
She knelt on the bed, eyes glazed over in thought. “You want me to not only own a piece of, but to also run the place where we met and you got me fired from?”
“Poetic, isn’t it?”
“You really are a conniving bastard.” Alice slumped against the headboard. “Of evil genius proportions.”
“I do try.”
In celebration, Monroe kissed her arm before bringing her back down to his level. Alice straddled his abdomen, far away from his hardening cock, but still aware of his virility. It’s so easy to become addicted to it. Now Alice knew what her new friend meant earlier. How easy would it be to always defer to her husband and let him take over everything, for better or for worse? That’s what Alice dipped into every time they were in bed. With him grasping her arms and holding them to her sides, her silk bathrobe falling from her torso and exposing the most tender parts of her? She was in trouble.
“Speaking of,” Alice cleared her throat, “we should talk about us.”
“Us?”
“Yeah. Us, Damon.”
He eased his grip on her. Alice’s hands landed on either side of his shoulders. Her breasts swung free from her robe and threatened to graze those deliciously coarse chest hairs. While he wasn’t the hairiest man around, Monroe sported more fuzz beneath his clothes than most women probably expected from such a well-groomed man. This is also the guy who grows a beard every day. If he didn’t groom regularly, his pelvis would be absolute anarchy. Not that I’m complaining. Makes fucking hotter. Another thing Alice never thought she would love so much.
“What is there to talk about?” He raised his hips, sending Alice sliding down his chest. “I much prefer if we don’t talk at all. Just do.”
“There is something to be said for, uh, words.” Alice tried not to get distracted by the shots of pleasure shooting through her nether lips. Hello pubes. Meet chest chairs. What was it about this man that made her breasts so tender? Her nipples barely grazed his skin, and she was already shaking in anticipation.
“God,” he said, “is it me or are your tits bigger?”
“Just you.” Alice was the authority on all things her tits.
“I’m going to go with they’re bigger.”
“Anyway.” Alice tried to get his attention. Attention focused on her naked body. “We have a few things to talk about regarding our marriage, don’t you think?”
“What is there to talk about?” Well, he was on a roll now. He was going to fuck with her until they were actually fucking. I should tell him to get his mitts off my breasts. Why would she? Just because he was pinching her nipples didn’t mean she couldn’t hold a conversation. Maybe. “It’s after nine. I think a marriage rule is that we don’t talk about shit after nine. I want to relax. With you.” His lips pecked hers. It would’ve been the sweetest thing if it weren’t for the crap on Alice’s mind.
Unfortunately, Monroe was really stinking good at distracting her with thoughts of sex.
“We need to talk about our lifestyle.”
“Our lifestyle, huh?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Hmm.” Monroe considered more than her breasts now. “I suppose. If we keep it sexy.”
This is it. This is marital mayhem of the best kind. Alice only considered “best kind” because, as annoying as it was to have him thwart her attempts at discussion, it sure beat the other kind of marital problems they could have.
“What exactly is it that you want from me?”
His smile disappeared. Monroe released his wife and kept his arms to his sides. Alice slid off his chest and remained close. “I have no idea how to answer that.”
“I ask because we were only getting started with that kind of life when we suddenly had to get married.” Had to get. Yeah. That’s it. That’s what Alice told herself when she began having panicky thoughts about getting hitched so quickly. “It fell by the wayside while we dealt with shit. Well, now I want to talk about it.”
“Oh, you went to the Warrens’ today, didn’t you?”
“Is it obvious?”
He groaned. “Not at all.” Monroe picked up both of their cell phones and deposited them on the nightstand. As Alice lay between pillows, her husband loomed over her, his minty breath heating up her
cheek. “You should already know what I want from you. I thought I made that pretty obvious. Besides… what makes you think you’re not fulfilling that?”
Of course he had a point. Alice still went out of her way to have things ready for him every day, when she could, and most of their sexual encounters were 99% Monroe taking control, implements sometimes included. He introduced me to a paddle the other night. I thought I had died and gone to Heaven.
“You said you wanted a lifestyle. I’m trying to figure out where we draw the line between public and private.”
“Obviously, you don’t have to be like that when we’re conducting business. You do as you please. We’ll figure out how we best synergize… ah, shit, I said synergize.”
Alice giggled. “You did.”
“See what you’ve done to me? First you make me fall in love with you, then you make me use corporate jargon. When does it end, Alice?” He pounced on her, covering her laughing throat with kisses and grabbing her ass. “When do you stop changing me?”
“Changing you? I’m the one everyone keeps saying is so different now. My own friend called me a bitch.”
“I’d tell her it takes one to know one.”
“Damon.” Alice put a restraining hand on his chest. “I need to know. What kind of wife do you need?”
“I could as easily ask you what kind of husband you desire.”
“You first.”
Resigned to no sex for the time being, Monroe threw himself onto his back and gazed at the ceiling above them. Probably thinks we need a mirror there. “What do I want in my wife? I want a woman who makes me feel at home. Someone I can trust and count on to be there for me. It’s not only about kinky sex, my love. It’s about having someone who can absorb my controlling tendencies and not lose her damn mind.”
“At least you admit you can be controlling.”
“Can I help it? If I wasn’t born this way, it definitely was beaten into me from the day I received my first personal servant.” He glanced at his wife. “Right after my parents’ divorce.”