The Perfectionist_Sin City Sentries [Book Two]

by Myra Scott

  A few minutes later, I felt like I had fallen into a spider’s web.

  I was suspended from a harness on the ceiling, and it left me hanging forward at an angle. My arms were behind my back, and there was an intricate set of knots holding them together that rendered me completely immobile. I could feel the complex pattern on my back, and I knew that Eric had done exceptionally fine work.

  I groaned as I tested my restraints, feeling completely and utterly restrained. I was immobilized, and the suspension that bound my legs kept me from moving them very much.

  “How does everything feel?” Eric asked, stepping around me and regarding his work.

  “Good, Sir,” I groaned. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You don’t deserve this,” he purred. I was expecting this—some mild degradation was on the menu this evening. “Do you think you’ve really worked hard enough to earn me?”

  “No, Sir,” I whispered.

  “That’s right,” Eric said. “You’re slacking off. You could be working right now, but instead, you’re wasting time with me. How pathetic is that? You really need a Dom in your life to set you straight?” He put the tip of his crop to my chin and pushed it up, making me look him in the eye. “But I guess if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

  He said it with that usual smug, confident smirk, but there was something missing from his eyes. The spark that had been there in our first two sessions was gone. My heart sank when I realized that, and I suddenly felt genuinely worried.

  Had my apology screwed things up? This was how I was expecting the session to be when I first came in—a little awkward, but nice, despite the professional distance. I had been happily surprised by the way Eric and I jived.

  This was different.

  “I don’t think you’ve been obedient enough,” Eric growled in a low tone. He touched the tip of the riding crop to my pants and traced around my crotch so slowly that it was painful. Despite the tension I felt between us, I was still aroused, and I was still growing harder by the second. Eric had a powerful effect on me that I couldn’t ignore, no matter what was going on between us. “Certainly not enough for me to touch you.”

  “Please, Sir,” I begged, breathing slow, deep breaths, “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

  “Tell me,” he ordered, approaching me and raising his gloved fingers to my exposed nipples. He traced circles around them and peered at them thoughtfully. “What, exactly, was going through your little mind?”

  “I thought about how well you drain me each time we’re together, Sir,” I whispered into his ear. “Every night, I think about you and get hard. I think about the way your lips touch me when you decide I deserve it, and I only ever want to make you happy, Sir.”

  “I’m listening,” he said, bringing the cool leather closer to my nipples, teasing me so painfully. “And what do you think I would do to you, if I found you deserving?”

  “Everything you want,” I breathed. “I bite my pillow and wish you were behind me, pushing yourself into me and making me beg for more.”

  “All without my permission? Sounds like you’ve been bad,” his husky voice rumbled. “I ought to keep you on a shorter leash.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” I said.

  “I know you are,” he said without missing a beat, and he curled his fingers in to gently squeeze my nipples between them.

  My mouth fell open, and I breathed shorter, sharper breaths as he began to play with my nipples. “I want to remind you that you’re mine, Mick. And in case you forget…”

  He strode over to a table and picked up a blindfold, a single strip of black silk that he brought up to me, a smile on his face.

  “… I’m going to give you a reminder your body will remember for a long, long time.” He slipped the blindfold around my eyes, and I was in pitch darkness.

  All I could feel was the warmth of the room, and I could hear every move Eric made. He put his thumbs to my nipples again, and with my sight cut off, I could feel so much more. I could feel every little motion his fingers made as they toyed with me, and each flick electrified me and got me harder.

  “Maybe I’ll touch you the way you want,” he mused, sounding like he was genuinely undecided. “Your body is just begging for it.”

  “Does it please you, Sir?” I asked, and he reached up to stroke my jawline with a hand, letting out a long breath.

  “I can get you to be pleasing to me whenever I want, Mick,” he whispered. “Don’t you forget that.” He patted my ass with his riding crop, then slowly unbuttoned my pants until my stiff cock sprang free, hanging like a sword suspended from all the ropes that bound me.

  He ran his hand along the length of my shaft, and the tips of his fingers teased my heavy balls. “Have you released lately, Mick? Have you let all that precious seed out without my permission?”

  “I’ve saved it for you,” I said, and it was the truth, partly. I had gone a few days without rubbing one out in preparation for this. “But the last time I did, you were the only thing on my mind.”

  “I’ll have to remind you just how much better the real thing is,” his voice rumbled, and I felt him slipping a condom on my cock before I heard him kneeling down.

  He took the tip of my cock into his mouth and started to lavish it with attention… but even as he did, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

  He touched me in all the right places, and the hot sensation of his tongue greedily washing over my cock was electrifying as ever. He made me feel like he was completely and utterly his in every way. But it was artificial. This felt more like an act than any other session, even the very first one.

  He moaned into my cock as he sucked it, and with my limbs bound and my eyesight cut off, it felt wonderful and new, and my cock throbbed and twitched for him every time he passed over the shaft and toyed with the bulging crown at the tip. I was so pent-up and full of need that it didn’t take much to keep me stiff and ready to release.

  And to keep my anxiety from boiling over and start thinking about how I screwed up with Eric, I didn’t hold anything back.

  Within minutes, I stopped restraining myself, and I felt my whole body respond to Eric’s delicious touch, going tense and rigid, like a tightly-wound guitar string ripe for being plucked, and God, Eric knew how to pluck me the way I needed.

  He drew his tongue over me one last time, and he carried me over the edge of bliss. I felt my seed fill up the condom as I came, burst after burst pulsing into it and draining my whole body of all the anxiety and tension I felt.

  But as soon as it was over, I felt a wave of shame, too.

  This was different, and I couldn’t get away from that.

  I felt Eric reach behind me to undo the blindfold when he was finished, and he was wearing a smug smirk when I could see him again, but I knew it was fake.

  “You’re incredible,” I breathed, hoping to salvage any of the mess that I’d made.

  “I know,” he said simply, confidently. “Now, hold still while I untie you and you can go get cleaned up.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE - MICK

  I snapped myself out of just staring at my computer screen for another few minutes, and I let my head sink into my hand. That old headache was throbbing again. This time, I just went for the Tylenol in my desk.

  I’d been a complete and utter mess since my last session with Eric. I knew why, too. Something had changed after I said something. I’d told myself that I was going to keep my mind away from him, that I would stay focused and keep myself from getting too attached anymore… but I knew what I saw in Eric’s face that evening.

  What I’d said had hurt him.

  I didn’t know what stung worse: the fact that I might have been wrong about Eric’s professionalism, or the simple fact that I hurt Eric.

  Even if I could come to terms with either, how was I go
ing to face him again after that? I didn’t think it could ever be the same. I didn’t see a reality in which I hadn’t just taken a sledgehammer to everything I had going with Eric. It had been flowing, natural, and spectacular, and with that one apology at the wrong time, I’d screwed it all up.

  I had a therapist once tell me that I had issues with guilt and blaming myself. If that was true, then I deserved the guilt.

  My phone snapped me out of my spiral, and I jumped a hair before looking down at it. It was Zane. I furrowed my eyebrow. He usually never called unexpectedly unless something serious was happening.

  “Yes?” I answered the phone.

  “Mick, whatever you’re doing, try to break free and get to the conference room as soon as you can,” Zane said, purpose in his voice. The background noise told me he was already on his way there, so I stood up and started to close out of what I was working on.

  “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

  “Maybe the opposite,” Zane said. “It’s those punks filing the suit against you. They’re here with their lawyers, and they want to talk about a settlement out of court.”

  “That’s… interesting,” I said, my heart picking up. “That could mean they’re realizing they don’t have a case.”

  “And want to spare themselves the legal fees and time in court,” Zane added, and I could hear the smile on his face as he said it. “I’ve already notified Rodney and the rest of our lawyers. All you have to do is come meet us down there. I recommend bringing a cup of coffee, with or without a splash of whisky.”

  “I’ll be there in five,” I said sharply, and I ended the call.

  True to my word, almost exactly five minutes later, I was stepping into the conference room where Zane and the other lawyers were already assembled.

  “Hope you didn’t shove past anyone on your way here,” Trevor said when I entered, “don’t want this conference room getting crowded.”

  One of his lawyers silently tried to silence him with a glare, and he piped down as I made my way silently over to sit between Zane and Rodney.

  Each group of people lined an opposite end of the conference table. It was a massive, dark brown surface that was so glossy we could almost see our reflections in it. The glass windows on the north wall of the room showed a beautifully scenic view of Vegas as the sun shone down brightly on it, thousands of windows gleaming in the light. When I sat down, it took me all of five seconds to get sick of the sight and wish I was in my office again, preferably with the curtains drawn.

  The boys across the table were glaring at me. The one I’d punched was still wearing a patch over his eye, as if the black eye wasn’t perfectly healed by now. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes back at him so hard that I hurt my eye.

  His lawyers, on the other hand, looked as deadly serious as ours, because this kind of petty trifle was their bread and butter. Zane and I exchanged a quick, silent look, and Zane gave me a reassuring nod. We could do this, we just had to keep our cool.

  “I have no doubt,” one of their lawyers began, a wiry man with a thin mustache, “that you gentlemen are aware of the court date next week.”

  “We are aware,” Zane said curtly, “and we plan to meet you there.”

  “That’s all well and good,” the other lawyer went on, “but we’re aware of the Sentry’s vast business expenses tied to this new nightclub you’ve opened and some of the staffing issues you’ve had as a result of it.”

  “I fail to see how this is relevant to your clients’ case,” Rodney spoke up, his voice sharp as a knife.

  “No need to be so hostile, Mr. Stone,” the other lawyer said to Rodney with a cool smile. “I bring that up because after some deliberation with my clients, we wanted to propose something that may be more convenient for all of us rather than fighting this out in court. I know the Sentry could stand to avoid the legal fees and wasted energy that could be going to the nightclub instead.”

  My gaze on them was even, and my face was like a statue’s. They were trying to keep the upper ground, despite the fact that we all knew this was an attempt to save face. The lawyers were probably up front with the kids about the fact that they had no case, and this was them trying to stay confident.

  Of course, that wasn’t necessarily the case.

  Like a game of poker, this meeting was about reading the enemy’s face and trying to call their bluff.

  Zane raised his eyebrows and looked around at everyone with a mild expression. “Well, we’re all here and listening.”

  The lawyer took out a folder and opened it, revealing a large number of files within.

  “As I’m sure Mr. Anderson informed all of you before we got here,” the lawyer said with a glance around at all of us, “what I’d like to discuss is a settlement.”

  “Considering how confident your clients were about bringing us to court, that’s surprising,” Zane said with a smug smile that made the college kids clench their jaws and glare daggers at him.

  “I can assure you, this has no bearing on the strength of our case, should we decide that we need to go to court,” the lawyer said. “Quite the contrary, in fact. The security video confiscated by the police was quite revealing, and I feel strongly that the judge will agree with my conclusions.”

  I felt my hands go cold, but I showed no sign of weakness. I never clenched my fists, moved my face, or did so much as blink when I didn’t have to.

  “So, why go through all the trouble of putting your client through the ‘emotional pain’ of revisiting the pain they allegedly experienced here?” Zane retorted, and the lawyer gave a thin smile.

  “My clients are busy college students, and with Spring Break over, they need to return to their studies and resume an education that will give them a bright future. Perhaps something more promising than the gambling industry,” he added with a glance around the building.

  Zane and I arched eyebrows at each other. He was doing his damnedest to keep us on the defensive.

  “And with that in mind, they’ve come to realize that it would be unbecoming of them to have to delay their studies because of a court battle over a case that all of us know well and good is a legitimate one.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want to interrupt these fine young examples of erudite scholars,” Zane said with a venomous smile that he exchanged with me. “By all means, since we’re here already, let’s see what you’re proposing.”

  The lawyer turned one of his papers around and slid it to Rodney, who took it and moved it to where we could all get a good look.

  His trained eyes moved a pen down past all the legal jargon to point at the explicit figure at the bottom of the page. An absolutely unreasonable number was written there, and both my and Zane’s eyes went wide.

  “I seem to be mistaken,” Zane said, shaking his head and sliding the paper back toward the other lawyers. “To me, this reads like you’re just here to waste our time. But I could be misreading all this legal mumbo-jumbo,” he added with a sarcastic smile, letting a shadow of his Minnesota accent slip through. “After all, I’m just a humble casino owner, I don’t have much fancy education like these boys here.”

  Even Rodney couldn’t keep a smile off his face, but while the lawyers began negotiating back and forth with different figures for the settlement, I soon found my mind drifting far away from all this nonsense.

  I felt trapped here, and it reminded me of the very reason I sought out Eric in the first place. He made me feel trapped in a way that was such sweet, beautiful release, and I knew damn well that he enjoyed it too.

  I was utterly restless, and I felt like I needed to jump out of my seat and flee the room, despite the seriousness of everything around me. I needed Eric. He made me feel whole, kept me sane, made me feel like I was as young as these punks in here every time I was with him. I loved every second of my time with him, and if I could just get my head out
of my ass, I’d be able to admit to myself that he felt that way too. It was clear as day in every touch, every whisper, every movement.

  I was on the point of dissociating when the realization hit me.

  I was in love with Eric.

  My face went pale for a moment, and I tried to pretend like I had my eyes firmly on some of the legal paperwork in front of me, but the words were swarming like ants all over the page.

  Love. There was no other word for it. Love.

  But had I already thrown it all away?

  I wanted to kick myself. All my life, I had stupidly thought that all my problems could be solved by compartmentalizing everything, thinking that work and life couldn’t mix, that everything had to be in its own little box. In the past, I had always thought that it was working out for me for the best, all things considered.

  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it’s what got me backed into this corner in the first place.

  The chatter of the lawyers was white noise by now. All I could think about was Eric, and I had a burning lump of coal in my heart that was catching on fire for him.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  I was half-tempted to pull my phone out in the middle of the meeting, as my heart was racing and I wanted to get this taken care of before my more conservative sense took over and told me not to act on this.

  “Mr. Mazur?”

  Rodney’s voice snapped me back into reality, and I looked over to him with genuine surprise on my face. Zane was looking back at me with just as much apprehension.

  “Do you agree?”

  “I’m sorry?” I asked, taking a breath and leaning forward. Zane looked at me incredulously, and my cheeks burned.

  “That we’re going to continue with the court date as planned and reject the plaintiff’s offer of a settlement,” Rodney clarified.

  Zane leaned in to whisper, “They’re just jerking us around, Mick, there’s no point in this.” I nodded.

  “I agree,” I said firmly, but the confidence in my voice wasn’t because of the settlement. I looked the opposition dead in the eye. “We’ll see you in court, gentlemen. Good day.”