by Anya Summers
It was wholly sound advice. He should listen to Declan. Hell, he should listen to Lucy, who had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't want a relationship with him. Was he going to listen to any of it? Nope. He had seen more in her eyes than fear and need; she had been as shocked as he by the force of the connection between them. Her aftercare, the way she'd cradled him to her breast, had altered the challenge he'd tossed her way in the gym.
He wanted more from her. He didn't know how much more, only that her touch calmed the demons inside him, currently ripping his soul to shreds.
"I know that, or I did. Since France, I'm not the same person anymore, Declan. I don't know if I will ever be that person again. I don't want a sub. I want Lucy."
Declan steepled his fingers, taking in the last bit of information from Jesse. Then he nodded. "Tread lightly with that one, okay? That one eats subs for breakfast. And realize if you fuck up, I won't hear the end of it from Zoey."
"Got it." Which meant not only could he potentially have a pissed off Domme on his hands, but Declan to contend with should he screw the pooch on this one. Way to inspire confidence.
Declan's phone rang before Jesse could respond and he was supremely thankful for the intervention.
"I need to take this. We'll talk more about both topics later. Keep your head down, and come to me if you have another relapse."
"Sure thing." He rose, leaving Declan's office.
He had the afternoon to plan how he was going to approach Lucy tonight. He wasn't going to bed alone and neither was she. He'd bet on it.
Chapter 7
"How could my sister do this?" Zoey cried. "Does she hate me that much?"
"Zoey, your sister doesn't hate you. So you guys had a fight, you'll work it out in the end," Lucy soothed, her arm around Zoey, letting her cry on her shoulder. They were in the library, where they'd just had a large delivery of boxes come in—to the butler's consternation, which gave Lucy some sublime sadistic satisfaction as she'd watched him lug box after box. She'd covered her grin the moment Zoey's tears started to fall as she opened the boxes. Apparently, Ophelia had shipped all of Zoey's belongings, from her clothing to her high school trophies and more, from their house in Burbank. Lucy didn't even want to think about how expensive that must have been for Lia. Her accountant's brain shuddered in revulsion at the numbers.
So she was more frugal than she let on, so what? Everyone needs a hobby, hers just happened to be bargain shopping and the art of the thrifty deal. Not that she ever looked like it.
She hated to give Ophelia credit but when that girl got mad, she knew how to deliver a TKO knockout punch to her opponent. Which was why her best friend was sobbing on her shoulder. When she got home, Lucy would give Ophelia a piece of her mind for pulling a stunt like this. Yeah, she totally understood how upset Ophelia was at the fact that Zoey was making her home five thousand miles away from them. She empathized with the sentiment, but Ophelia was acting like a spoiled hurt teenager and not a grown ass woman. On the flipside, Ophelia was pregnant and hormonal, so maybe it was a wash in the end.
Lucy would have to see what she could do to help them mend fences. They both could be so damn stubborn. And Ophelia was needier than she realized. Lucy was, too, although she was better at hiding it, which was why Zoey had given up so much of her life to help raise her sister.
"And here she was condemning me—when she's the one who got knocked up by a Dom, at a BDSM club in Pasadena no less!" Zoey said.
"What?" Lucy couldn't believe it. Their little Ophelia, a sub? Zoey she could totally see willing to take a walk on the wide side, but Lia? The girl who believed Mister Darcys had existed in some form two hundred years ago? The same one who'd spent a year dressing like she was the reincarnated spirit of Emily Dickinson after their parents died? That girl was the soul of propriety, or so it had seemed. Would wonders never cease to amaze her?
"Yep, by one of Declan's friends, no less. Tobias owns Dungeon Pleasures in Pasadena. It's an extension of the DFC here in Scotland."
"Really? Interesting." Especially considering how close Lucy lived to Pasadena.
During her interlude with Jesse, it had dawned on Lucy how much of her life she'd handed control of over to others regarding how they viewed her. In the midst of one of the best orgasms she had in years, if not ever, Lucy knew right then and there that the reason she couldn't find the sexual satisfaction she craved with men was her deep in the bones need to dominate them. Sex without it was no longer worth the trouble. Being with Jesse while he took a walk on the submissive side had shaken her world to its foundation, and she knew deep in her heart that she could no longer hide who she was out of fear or possible repercussions to her livelihood.
Jason had done that to her, made her question herself and her own morals, made her fear the only thing that had ever truly satisfied her in bed. May he rot in an early grave, that bastard.
Lucy had met Jason at her first accounting firm straight out of college. She remembered how exuberant she'd been at landing a position at one of the premier LA Firms. Jason had been a junior executive accountant, who had taken her under his wing and, more importantly, into his bed. When their relationship went south, as office romances have a tendency to do, Jason had threatened to expose her Domme tendencies to the entire firm if Lucy didn't leave.
His threats had worked as he'd increasingly made her work environment more hostile, even going so far as to plant a picture of her in her Domme gear in an envelope on her desk. His back had been to the camera but it had caught her fully in the face, with a cane in her hand. Lucy had known that if she were exposed, she'd never work at an elite accounting firm again.
Instead of staying, fighting him and his pervasive blackmail, she folded. In turn, the barbs he'd lobbed at her made her question her any sense of self, filling her with shame. So Lucy hid her more elite bedroom BDSM tastes under lock and key, and left the firm. In retrospect, on the career front it had been a great move for her. She was the youngest Senior Accounts Executive at Fromiere's and Associates.
Except she'd hidden her Domme nature, her sexual needs sunken into a dark crypt inside her, out of fear. She'd always accused Zoey of using her sister as an excuse for not living her life. The pot and kettle were such good friends for a reason. After the last twenty-four hours, it was time Lucy stopped living in fear, letting it dictate her life. She didn't want her fear to control her. She was the master of her destiny—not her father, not her adoptive parents, and not her bosses. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Lucy Martin claimed her desires. Never again would she hand her fate over to another or subvert who she truly was in her heart. Lucy knew there was power in that, in owning her shit. She'd been to one too many therapists as a child not to think that they'd be supremely proud of her in this moment.
As her first executive order from the new and improved Lucy, she added Dungeon Pleasures to her list of places to visit upon her return to Burbank. Right after she went and kicked some sense into Ophelia. Maybe her bestie's fiancé could set her up with a membership before she headed back stateside.
Declan choose that moment to walk into the library. Speak of the devil. The moment he spied Zoey and all the boxes, there was a shocked look of consternation as he attempted to deduce the situation.
"What the bloody hell… Lass, did something happen?"
Zoey withdrew from her and dashed over to Declan. "My sister hates me. I've messed everything up."
Declan laid his head against Zoey's, his arms wrapped her tight against him and he stroked over her back. He crooned, "It's all right, lass. We'll fix it."
Lucy decided it would be best if she made herself scarce. She hated to admit it, but she was beginning to like the big guy, and was starting to think he was damn near perfect for her best friend.
She slid out of the room with a silent nod of thanks from Declan as she shut the door behind her. Lucy tried phoning Ophelia and it went straight to voicemail. The little termagant probably knew she'd give her an earful
and was ignoring her call. She ended the call and slipped her phone into her back pocket.
Lucy suddenly found herself with nothing to do. Considering she'd imagined she would have to use every ounce of her time here in her campaign to bring Zoey back stateside, she'd never considered she might find herself bored.
She wandered the halls. Snapped a few pictures on her phone, to show to whom, she didn't know. None of her colleagues would care, not when many of them took luxurious vacations in Tahiti, Bali, and Hawaii, among other places. Ophelia had already seen the manor and, by the sound of it, wanted no memory of it.
As part of her new outlook on life, Lucy took the pictures for herself. Maybe she'd frame one or two, put them up in her house so she remembered what she'd found there. And in a bittersweet way, what she had lost, as well. It's not every day your best friend lets you know they are never coming home again.
God, she was going to miss her. Seeing how readily Zoey had leapt from the comfort she offered to run to Declan had been like a knife severing the connection between them. Oh, they'd always be the best of friends, but it had changed. Zoey had changed and no longer needed Lucy. Not in the way Lucy needed her.
At one of the entrances to the grand ballroom, which currently had drop cloths, sawhorses, and all manner of tools spread around, she paused, watching a handsome hunk of beefcake carve Grecian columns. This was one of Kara's men, though she didn't know which one. Not wanting to disturb his work, Lucy watched from the doorway, taking in the full scene with the high domed ceiling filled with twinkling crystal chandeliers. The mouthwatering man was a smidgeon taller than Lucy, with striking midnight hair, its waves pulled back into a stubby ponytail at the base of his neck. He had a perpetual five o'clock shadow beard lining the hard planes of his jaw. This guy wore a pair of jeans like some men wore a dress suit. They fit snug and rode low on his lean hips. His work shirt was a black cotton long sleeved number that had the image for some metal band Lucy didn't know displayed on it.
He bent to his task, the humming murmur of the electric sander echoing in the space. She stood transfixed. It was like watching a maestro at work. His focus and concentration were absolute on his task. The man played a symphony with the wood, running the sander over it in graceful, sure strokes, turning the column as he went. His hands and body moved in this sensual dance that she appreciated for the sheer value of watching a thoroughly gorgeous male working passionately at his craft. With the attention to detail he displayed, Lucy knew that Kara was a lucky girl indeed.
"So, you like to watch, huh?" Jesse's deep gravelly voice sounded next to her ear.
Her heartbeat thumped wildly in her breast and she flinched at the unexpected sound. "Son of a bitch!" she fumed. "Make some noise when you sneak up on someone instead of giving them a bleeding heart attack."
She smacked him on the chest with a loud thud. And then glared into his smirking hazel eyes. If he were in truth her sub, she'd make him pay for what he had just done, put his balls in a humbler for an hour or two and see how repentant he was after that. If there was one thing Lucy could not stand, it was being surprised like that. She didn't do haunted houses or put up with pranks like this one. Her heart thumped madly in her chest from his stint, raising her anxiety and her blood pressure. Lucy had to use some of the tricks she'd learned in therapy to corral her heart back into a manageable steady beat. She'd been beaten one too many times by her father as a child. And not once had she ever seen it coming. Granted, she'd been a toddler, no more than a baby really. Except, ever since then, she'd always made it a point to diminish surprises like the one Jesse had just delivered in her life. It was partially her fault, she'd grown lax, not expecting the sudden attack, and had left an open space at her back.
She shifted so that the outer lip of the ballroom wall was behind her instead of open space. Lucy ignored the way Jesse studied her actions. The last thing she would do was explain her weakness. When a person knew how to harm you, or what you feared, it could be used like a weapon against you.
The power sander shut off. "Jesse, what the hell man?"
Lucy plastered a smile over her face, hiding her still skittering heartrate. "Forgive him; he seems to be a few chromosomes shy of intelligent life. I'm Lucy, by the way. I didn't mean to interrupt your work. I find it absolutely fascinating."
He sauntered over and took her hand, kissing the back of her palm. "So you're the Lucy who convinced Kara to disobey my orders? It's a pleasure to meet you. Chase Manning at your service."
"Delighted. I hope you didn't discipline her too badly." Boy, did Kara score herself a hunk with this one. All nicely mannered, well groomed, and worked well with his hands. Too bad he was a Dom, and from the looks of it, utterly smitten with Kara. His dark soulful eyes were, in a word, yummy, lip-smacking goodness.
"Rules are rules." Chase assessed her while she studiously did her best to ignore Jesse's presence. She held Chase's gaze firmly and noted the moment he realized she wasn't a sub. The power shift was barely perceptible, but it was there as he accepted her an as equal.
"That they are," she acknowledged and as a Domme, she agreed wholeheartedly with disciplining a disobedient sub. As Kara's quasi friend, she felt unscrupulous over the fact that she'd gotten her into trouble. However, Kara was a grown, fully functioning adult, capable of making her own decisions. She knew from the start of their little adventure below decks last night that she'd be disciplined, so who was she to get her panties in a twist?
"Rules are made to be broken. I've broken my fair share," Jesse piped up next to her.
"And how's that working out for you?" Her words were sharper than she wanted them to be, but she was fighting the pull she felt toward him whenever he neared. And she was still infuriated by his little Houdini appearing act. Sure, he had no idea how it had affected her, but her fear response wasn't something she could control all the time. Lucy could still feel the unexpected backhands and punches from out of nowhere. She didn't like it, she hated the weakness, and that it could turn her staunch independent exterior into a quivering wreck. In her mind, her fascination with Jesse was a bit too close to giving him control for her liking. Lucy would not break her vow to herself, nor allow another man to control her fate.
Instead of directly telling him to leave her alone, now that they had an audience, she attempted to do more passive aggressive hooey by ignoring him. She whipped her attention back to Chase. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly are you building here? Zoey described it to me a little bit, but around the oohing and aahing over china patterns, it was a bit confusing."
Chase's gaze traveled between her and Jesse. She really didn't care for the knowing look and raised brow he sent Jesse but there was nothing she could do about it except ignore it. It made her turn up the wattage on her charm.
"I'd be happy to give you a quick tour, if you like. I'm on a bit of a time crunch but could spare some for you," Chase offered as he wiped his hands on a rag.
"Be still my heart." She batted her lashes playfully at him and earned an endearing grin. "I will take you up on that offer, kind sir." Lucy flirted shamelessly with him. Chase didn't miss a beat as he tucked her hand into his elbow. He drew her into the room, taking her through the various structures he was constructing. Lucy had been honest; it did fascinate her, the attention to detail and expert craftsmanship.
Chase should have been designing buildings or furniture, but instead he helped turn weddings into a fantasy the bride has always dreamt about. Lucy glanced over her shoulder to the doorway, but Jesse had left.
And if she felt guilty about the way she'd treated him, she quashed it. It was for the best, there was no future between a Domme and a Dom.
An hour later, Lucy stepped off the elevator, heading toward her room to prepare for dinner. Apparently, Zoey and the head chef for her wedding, Zeke, were in the kitchen, cooking up a storm together. Zoey had mentioned that she may go to culinary school, that Declan was urging her to follow her dreams. Lucy liked that about Declan, he wa
s doing what Zoey's parents, forgive her for even thinking, had never considered when they were alive; allowing her to follow her dreams.
Lucy remembered how excited Zoey had been when she was accepted to the culinary institute right before they'd graduated high school. Zoey had been all prepared to mail her acceptance letter in right away. Within twenty-four hours, her tune had done a complete one-eighty, under her parents' advice of course, and she accepted a place at and enrolled in the local state university. Lucy had been sad for Zoey at the time, but knew that once she set her mind to something, there was no stopping her.
Which was why Lucy flying over here had been for naught before she'd even purchased her ticket. Lucy knew Zoey wouldn't relent once her mind was firmly made up. However, Lucy was satisfied that she had made the trip, on a personal level. She'd arrived in Scotland living a half-life, and now felt more alive than she'd been in ages. It was all thanks to Jesse, too.
Lucy didn't know how she should handle the situation with him. Did she want more from him? Yes. She enjoyed the challenge he presented, in having him submit to her will. How often did one Dom submit to another? Never. It gave her this pervasive thrill, like she was taming a wild stallion. Did she think it was feasible for them to actually carry on a relationship? No. And that was where the problem lay. The more they interacted, the more she wanted to get to know him better, and there was only one way this could end. With the both of them going back to their separate lives on different continents.
Avoiding Jesse, pushing him away like she'd done earlier, while crueler than she would have liked, seemed to be the only way to shut him down. It was Saturday night. Surely there would be more male subs in the Dungeon she could find to play with, and if not, this place had a kicking wine cellar she would avail herself of until Wednesday morning.
Lucy entered her room and blanched. Jesse knelt at her feet in the slave pose, completely, one hundred percent naked without a stitch to his name. His sculpted ass pointed up in invitation. He didn't move when she shut the door but stayed still, awaiting her instructions.