by Jane Henry
Doing what any good dom would do, though it came more from trying to appease his guilt than a true concern for her welfare, he showed her where she could clean up, and tossed her a blanket so they could catch some sleep before he kicked her ass out in the morning. No cuddling. It was not uncommon for a dom to set the terms of post-sex protocol, and she could pout, but whatever; he needed some damn shut eye. It was his damn vacation, after all.
For a moment he entertained the thought that maybe he'd luck out and she'd want to hightail it home now, and he could get some sleep alone in his own bed.
No such luck.
She wanted fucking pillow talk.
"I swear to God, that was the best spanking I ever got, and believe me, I've gotten lots of spankings. You are so good. I mean, you've obviously had lots of practice. I was with this one guy who was a Dom, or at least he called himself a Dom. Seriously, the guy was all slap slap slap and I didn't even feel it, plus he didn't say a thing and just stood there like a—"
"Tammy," he interrupted, eyes shut tight, forearm slung over his face.
"Yes?" he heard her ask.
"I don't want to talk right now. Let's get some sleep."
She sighed. "I was just trying to tell you that you were really good," she said in a whiny voice that had suddenly risen several octaves. He opened his eyes. Her lower lip stuck out and his stomach twisted at the pathetic, fabricated puppy-dog eyes she was giving him. Maybe she wasn't eager to please. Apparently, that was just a show in bed. Figured.
"Thanks," he said with forced politeness. The quicker he pacified her, the quicker she'd go the hell to sleep and so, theoretically, would he.
"I've been with lots of other Doms," she prattled on, "and really, you are amazing. Like, top of the line. I think next time, I want to—"
The phrase 'next time' sent him bolt upright. He glared as she stared at his bare chest, and the definition in his abs, his sideways posture giving her a prime view. To his horror, she reached a finger out and caressed the top of his shaved head and continued to trace it down to the scruff of his beard.
"And oh my God, I swear, you look like an amped-up, sexified version of Mr. Clean or something. I've never been with a Dom with a shaved head before and I—"
"Tammy!" he spat out through gritted teeth, using what little remained of his self-control to remove her adoring fingers from his head and place them deliberately on the bed. "Mr. Clean is bald. I'm not bald. And I mean it."
"What?" she said, the sing-song tone of her voice gone now, as her lip went out again.
"No talk. Sleep."
She glared.
But two could play this game, and fortunately, he had the upper hand.
Narrowing his eyes, he gave her 'the look', the look he used at school to convey to his students without words that there'd be hell to pay if they didn't shape up.
She huffed.
"Lay down," he ordered in a low, stern voice. "Roll over. And go to sleep."
"I can't just go to sleep!" she protested. "Just wham, bam, go to sleep ma'am?"
Hanging onto his temper with the last shred of self-control he had, he deliberately inhaled. "Do you really want another spanking?" he asked.
Her eyes widened, then gleamed. "Well, I didn't know you'd be ready that soon, but if you really—"
His temper snapped.
"You say you've been with lots of Doms? Let me ask you this."
She leaned in, eyes wide but a bit apprehensive. "Um, yes. And yes?"
He lowered his voice to just above menacing. "Have any of them ever given you a real spanking? One that didn't end in sex? A good, hard spanking that teaches you to behave yourself and obey?"
She blinked, frowning.
"Well. No," she said.
"Do you want tonight to be the first time?" he continued in a low whisper.
"No," she whispered back.
"Then go to sleep."
She frowned. "Fine," she muttered, and to his relief, she rolled over on her side, away from him, and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder. Despite her insistence that she wasn't tired, within minutes he heard light, whiffling snores. He sighed with relief and fell back on his own pillows, willing himself to sleep. He tried to relax, focusing on the soft, fluttering curtains at his window, the night air—
He sat upright.
Fluttering curtains? Night air?
He leapt out of bed.
Holy shit! She did not!
He spun on his heel and glared at the sleeping form on his bed. The only thing preventing him from waking her ass up, hauling her out of bed, and delivering that 'real' spanking he'd threatened, was the knowledge that she would be awake again, not asleep, and, therefore, delay his plan in getting her out of his house.
He'd told her very clearly to shut and lock the window, as he'd made sure his front door was locked.
She'd disobeyed him. He knew her friend had mentioned Tammy was a bit of an exhibitionist, but… shit! How had he not realized she'd left those windows open on purpose? With a stifled groan, he peeked under the curtains, as if he could tell by looking out his window if anyone had heard anything. No one was out there, of course, but with the row of windows across from him… God, if anyone he worked with ever found out—professionals at his rank did not pick up girls at kink clubs—and just after the scandal, too, when the board was just itching for a chance to clean up their reputation.
He sighed, as he shut the window and locked it. Nothing he could do about it now.
With a final glare at Tammy, he yanked his pillow and a blanket off the bed, and marched off to his living room to sleep on the couch.
Chapter 3
Heidi leaned her elbows on the counter, staring intently at her ancient coffeemaker as it groaned and hissed, as if her focus could encourage it to brew faster.
"Come on, baby. You can do it," she encouraged, but the machine couldn't seem to hear her over the sound of its own sputtering, and it took its sweet time, as always. She could practically hear Paul now, telling her to ditch the thing and buy herself one of those cool single-cup doohickeys, but she knew she wouldn't. Unlike her assistant, who was constantly on the hunt for the newest and the best, Heidi was a creature of habit. She'd stick with this coffee pot until it finally bit the dust. Or until she finally threw it off the fire escape in a fit of un-caffeinated rage.
With a pained sigh, she turned and slid down the cabinet to the floor, resting her forehead on her bent knees. These late nights had to stop. She'd moved to Boston to make a healthy change, personally and professionally, to increase her client base, to take on new challenges, to get out of her comfort zone… and yeah, to get just a little distance from her family who, as much as she loved them, could take her from zero to crazy in two-point-four seconds. Portland was plenty close enough to visit, but far enough away that her mother wouldn't be dropping by to inspect the contents of her refrigerator for artificial preservatives, and her incurably romantic younger sister wouldn't constantly be trying to fix her up with anything that had two legs and a penis.
Princess tiptoed over and prodded Heidi's arm with her nose in a dignified way, a queen who'd been forced to come begging. Heidi huffed in amusement and unbent to pull the little dog into her lap.
"Poor Princess," she said, gently stroking the dog's silky head and scrunched up face. "It's not easy to go from being the center of attention to the sidekick, is it, baby? You miss Mr. Reynolds, don't you?"
When her mother's elderly neighbor had fallen and broken his hip earlier this year, his family had realized, a little too late, in Heidi's opinion, that Mr. Reynolds couldn't live alone any longer. So, they'd moved him to an assisted living place, apparently not knowing (or not caring) that the place wouldn't accept his beloved dog, Princess Daphne Du Maurier (Mr. Reynolds being a big fan of Rebecca). Poor Princess had been left in… how did they say it in the old-school romances? Reduced circumstances. Heidi had been glad to take her in, but Heidi knew she was a poor substitute for Princess's real master.
"No antique carpets to piddle on in this place, huh?" she asked the dog. "No fancy dog collars. No one to cuddle with all day. But it's better than the pound, right? Better than being locked up."
Princess sank her head onto Heidi's thigh with a sigh of agreement and closed her eyes.
Heidi leaned her head back on the cabinet, patted the dog absentmindedly as she listened to the coffee maker give the loud gurgle-hiss-splat that she knew was the crescendo right before the end, thank God, and mapped out her day.
First step, coffee. Of course. Then, since Paul was celebrating his arrival in Boston by spending a long weekend on Cape Cod with some friends, there was no reason to rush to the office. Instead, she'd pull all the documentation Paul had acquired on their new client and review it. The all-important first meeting was fast approaching, and she knew from experience that she needed to be on top of her game.
She'd yet to work on a contract where the employees actually welcomed an outsider coming in to audit their financials, especially when the scent of corruption was in the air. Knowing that Heidi had all that sensitive information in her possession—annual salaries, executive bonuses, corporate investments, reimbursement requests for all those late-night business meetings at Hooters—made people feel vulnerable, and vulnerable people tended to behave like recalcitrant toddlers. Still, in the Difficult Client Olympics, these guys took the gold. They hadn't responded to a single one of her requests for financial or personnel information.
Shady, much?
And all the more reason to go into that meeting prepared and in control.
Plan in place, she gave the dog a final pat and stood up to get her coffee, while Princess trotted off sedately to make a grand tour of the living room.
As her back gave an uncomfortable twinge, she realized that she needed to bite the bullet and find a new gym. It had been weeks since she'd done any exercise besides scooting moving boxes from one side of the apartment to the other. Surely some place around here had decent Pilates classes. Or maybe she could really bust out of her comfort zone and try lifting some weights. Maybe she could even meet some new people while she was there… or not, but at least it would get Paul off her case.
She rolled her eyes as she poured a large mug of coffee.
Paul had given her a look when she said she hadn't had time to meet anyone in the two weeks they'd been there—a look that said he knew exactly how little effort she'd made to meet anyone except old Mrs. Brassel from the basement apartment downstairs, and that was only to apologize for Princess running across the hardwood floors at all hours of the day. She felt like she'd met Mr. 6F, though. She might not know how he liked his coffee, but she knew how he liked his… well.
She scraped her hair up in a ponytail and ignored the rush of heat to her face. She would not go there. Not this morning. Or at all. She had even carefully avoided the front window this morning, deliberately not sneaking a peek at the latest member of 6F's harem. It was none of her business.
But as Heidi added cream to her cup, she found herself remembering the raspy voice in the night, the desperate pleasure of the woman he'd taken so… so forcefully, and she shivered, just as she had a few hours ago.
Shaking her head at her wayward thoughts, she lifted the steaming mug in both hands, gratefully anticipating that first delicious sip…
When all hell broke loose.
Princess began barking… barking, as she hadn't barked in months, if ever, and the sound was so startling that Heidi's hand jerked, and the scalding hot coffee spilled all over her blue camisole and dribbled down her shorts. Shit! From the living room, Princess continued to bark wildly, and Heidi could hear the dog's claws scrabbling against the large bay window, and then across the floor to the front door. She yanked the soaking fabric of her camisole away from her reddened skin, grabbed a dish towel from the counter, and ran to the front room.
"What is it, Princess?" she asked. "God, what happened?"
Princess was scrabbling frantically at the front door now, whining.
Oh, God! Princess hadn't been outside yet this morning, and Heidi had been too busy daydreaming about her sex-maniac neighbor to remember. Ugh. Way to be a responsible dog owner, Heidi.
She quickly unlocked both deadbolts and grabbed Princess's leash ("Pink with rhinestones, as befits royalty," her sister Hillary had said when she'd given it to the dog) from the coat rack near the door, but then she paused.
She was still in her pajamas.
Her very wet, coffee-stained pajamas.
Shit.
"Okay, Princess, I need you to stay right outside this door. Do you hear me?" she told the dog sternly. Princess, who had calmed down slightly at the sight of the leash, sat on her hind legs and whined as Heidi clipped it on her collar. Was that a yes? It would have to do.
Heidi opened the door a crack, and held the leash as Princess took a cautious step onto the landing. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, walking in a slow circle, sniffing the air… then without warning, gave a mighty yelp and leaped down the stairs, pulling the leash from Heidi's unsuspecting hand, and plowed across the strip of grass in front of the building, heading straight for the street as though the hounds of hell were on her tail.
"Princess!" Heidi cried.
Her bare feet hit the landing a second later, and she pelted down the sidewalk after the wildly yapping dog.
"Stop!" came a voice so deep and stern that Heidi almost instinctively obeyed it.
Oh, shit. Oh no. The sound of Princess's excited whines was coming from…
"I said stop," came the voice again, and Princess's yelping immediately stopped.
Shit on a stick.
Princess had just become Mr. 6F's latest submissive.
Heidi stopped at the end of the path to the building next door. A man with close-cropped hair and bare feet was kneeling on the stoop next to her dog, one hand firmly on Princess's collar, the other patting her head in a soothing way, while Princess gazed up at him with adoring eyes. As Heidi moved to come forward, the man's eyes lifted and locked onto hers, and Heidi couldn't look away.
Green. Pale, beautiful green. Even from twenty feet away, she knew their color with certainty, and some distant part of her brain marveled. Green like jade. Green like a laser beam… like a tractor beam, she corrected, as she found herself walking up the path without conscious thought. And that hot, green gaze traveled the length of her, from her bare feet, up her bare legs, over the wet silk of her top, to the hair spilling out of her ponytail, and back to her eyes again. Heidi's stomach tightened in excitement. Just from his eyes! Imagine what it would be like if he…
Movement off to the right broke the spell, and Heidi was startled to find a woman… oh, God, the woman—Tammy—standing there watching the man and the dog, as well. Her black hair hung in limp tangles around her face, traces of old eye makeup lingered beneath her eyes, and her skin-tight dress was just a little too tight for broad daylight on a spring morning, but she was undeniably a knockout.
Heidi felt a blush stain her cheeks as a long strand of hair fell out of her loose ponytail to cling to her face. Could she possibly look any worse at this moment? Doubtful. Pale face gone red, dull blue eyes bleary from lack of sleep, half-dressed. She crossed her arms over her chest to gain some tiny semblance of modesty and felt her face grow exponentially redder. God, her nipples were hard! No wonder Mr. 6F was still staring.
But Tammy seemed not to notice. She was looking at the man with exactly the same expression that Princess was wearing.
Probably the same expression Heidi was wearing, too.
Mortifying.
"Oh, you are so brave," Tammy breathed, and the man turned away from Heidi to look at her with one eyebrow raised.
"Seriously, Dom, that thing was going to bite me."
Dom. Mr. 6F was named… no way. He was named Dom? His mama must've been psychic.
Heidi bit her lip as amusement cut through the mortification.
"This thing is a dog. And it's too
small to hurt anyone… but itself," he added, with a stern look at Heidi.
The admonishment chafed more than it should have.
"She's fast," Heidi blurted, tilting her head up to look at Dom where he crouched on the top step. "She was on the front stoop and pulled away from me when I didn't expect it. I apologize. It won't happen again. I… Oh, I'm Heidi from 6E,"she said, indicating her own front door just steps away.
"Dom," the man said, confirming his name with a nod.
"And I was almost breakfast!" Tammy retorted, apparently feeling that no one understood the gravity of the situation. "That thing is small but vicious. He jumped on me and practically knocked me down! If I get knocked down again, I… I'll sue."
It was Heidi's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Princess is a she," Heidi said hotly, grabbing Princess's trailing leash with a pointed look at the pink and rhinestones. "She never bites. And I have never known her to jump on anyone… but frankly, I've never known her to get so excited or to run away, either," she admitted.
Tammy sniffed derisively, and Heidi's temper flared.
"I'd hate to think you smacked yourself on anything or got hurt in any way. Maybe we should take you to the doctor? See if you got bruised?"
Tammy's eyes flicked to Dom for a moment, then she stood up straighter.
"No, that won't be necessary," she said stiffly.
"No, in fact, you were just leaving, weren't you, honey?" Dom said, straightening from his crouch. His tone left no room for argument.
"I-I do have to get going," Tammy said with dignity, but her eyes were still trained on Dom, as though hoping he would relent.
He didn't.
Tammy hitched her purse under her arm and stalked down the steps, not bothering to acknowledge Heidi.
"Nice meeting you!" Heidi called with a mocking wave. "You have a great day, too!"
She turned back to Dom, and could swear she saw his lips twitch.
"So, sorry again about this," she said, lifting her hands to indicate the dog, Tammy, and herself. "I'll just take Prin…"