by Brynley Bush
Without taking his eyes off mine, he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks the tear away. He holds my gaze for a long minute. Something passes between us, and then it’s gone as he points out landmarks among the towering buttes and rugged cliffs—the glass Skywalk that extends out over the Canyon itself, the Dragon’s Corridor, and the Colorado River that has carved this vast majestic wilderness.
We descend slowly, privy to amazing views of the ancient rocks before coming to a stop at the bottom of the canyon. Roman helps me out of the helicopter, and I glance down at my watch, surprised to see it’s one o’clock. The pilot hands him a wicker picnic basket and then takes the controls again, and I watch as the helicopter slowly climbs up and disappears from sight, leaving Roman and me alone on the floor of the canyon, the red walls towering on either side of us.
Roman unfolds a picnic blanket and spreads it on the ground, and we sit down as he unloads the hamper. There’s cheese and crackers, caviar, grapes, strawberries, slices of cold roast beef threaded onto a skewer with bleu cheese, and a bottle of champagne, which Roman expertly uncorks and pours into two crystal glasses.
He hands me a glass and then clinks his with mine. “To winning,” he says.
I smile. “To winning.”
The food is delicious, and we talk while we eat. I ask Roman more about his company, and in the process I find out that he’s the oldest of three kids, has two younger sisters who live in Boston where he’s originally from, and loves to travel. But for all that he tells me, there’s more that he doesn’t, and I can sense a darkness, maybe even a sadness, about him.
“Tell me something about you,” he says.
I concentrate on the last strawberry on my plate. “Like what?”
“What else makes you feel as deeply as you did when we flew over the rim into the canyon?”
I look into his gray-blue eyes that see far too much. I think hard, trying to conjure up something—anything—that has broken through the walls I’ve built around my heart. Has it really been so long since I’ve allowed myself to feel anything?
Noticing my hesitation, he says, “Okay, if that’s too hard, tell me your favorite book or your favorite song,”
I tilt my head, considering. “When I was younger, I loved The Chronicles of Narnia. I loved the idea of being able to climb into a wardrobe and disappear into a completely different world. But I don’t have a favorite song, or maybe I just have too many.”
Music was the only thing that had gotten me through that dark, endless, gray time after my father’s death, and I think I lived with earbuds in my ears for at least a year, the ever-changing playlist of songs my constant and often only companion. I still listen to a wide variety of music because it’s the only time I don’t feel alone. There’s always a song to match my mood and assure me that someone else somewhere has felt the same way and has survived.
“What are you thinking?” Roman prompts softly. “You looked sad.”
I give a little shake of my head. “Nothing. How could I be sad here? This is beautiful.”
“Look at the sky.” He pulls me down gently so my head is pillowed on his lap. His thighs are rock hard, and the nearness of him is making me light-headed. “It’s so infinite. Nothing like the grandeur of nature to remind us of our insignificance in the whole scheme of things,” he says wryly.
“I’ve never seen anything more stunning.” He may be bossy as hell and completely intimidating, but I have to give him props for trying to ease my trepidation. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
Content for the moment, I lie there with my head in his lap as he strokes my hair until the helicopter returns, and we begin our ascent out of the canyon and back to reality.
Chapter Six
Roman
The limousine is waiting for us at the helipad when we land. Ava is more relaxed on the drive back to the Strip, and although she’s far from verbose, she’s noticeably more comfortable with me.
Back in town, I introduce her to a sampling of what Las Vegas has to offer. We ride a gondola at the Mandarin, watch the acrobats perform at Circus Circus, and wander through the Bellagio, where I greedily drink in the delight on her face as we stop to watch the dancing fountains in front of the hotel. I haven’t been on a date or gone to so much effort for a girl in years. I’m not quite sure why I’ve made an exception for Ava, other than the fact that I’d quickly realized last night that it’s going to be imperative to win her trust if we’re going to stay on the show, which I’m determined to do. I don’t care about the money or even winning, but if we get voted off, my time with her ends, and with it my chance to see if she could be the permanent submissive I’m looking for, the one who can make me forget the demons that haunt me, if only for a little while.
If anything, she intrigues me more now than she did before the auction. She’s easily embarrassed and almost shy when it comes to anything remotely erotic, but when I looked over her list of hard and soft limits this morning, I noticed she’s agreed to just about everything but the most extreme acts. But somewhat surprisingly, given her obvious willingness to submit to the full spectrum of BDSM, she’s listed intercourse as a hard limit. I fully intend to change her mind about that.
I’m also surprised by how much I enjoy making her smile. She doesn’t smile easily, but when she does, it makes me feel like a fucking king. There’s something about her raw innocence that arouses every Dominant instinct in me, and I want to protect her as much as I want to possess her.
“Are we going back to the hotel?” she asks as we walk down the street back toward the Helix. I thread my fingers with hers, and I’m pleased when she lets me. I’m definitely making progress.
“Not yet,” I say. “I thought we’d go to dinner first. We don’t have to be back until eight o’clock for the meeting.”
“What meeting?” she asks, turning those inquisitive green eyes on me.
“The first official meeting of the games to go over the general rules going forward, the photo shoot tomorrow, and maybe even the first group challenge.” I shrug. “We’ll find out when we get there.”
“The photo shoot? What photo shoot?”
“As a little pregame bonus round, the show has arranged for a photographer to come take boudoir photos of each of the submissives tomorrow. I have a feeling there’s some kind of sponsorship incentive behind it, but it will be fun for the Doms to pose their subs for the photos, and for the subs to show off all the sexy clothing they brought. The photos will probably also be used for hotel publicity in the future.”
She falters and I stop.
“Ava, I told you what will happen if you’re ashamed of your body,” I remind her softly.
“It’s not that,” she hedges. “It’s just…” She takes a breath and then lifts her gaze to meet mine, that little chin tilting up again. “I didn’t bring the right clothes to wear for something like that.” She smiles wryly. “I was at NYU on a full academic scholarship, but they don’t really factor in a bondage-and-lingerie budget for the average college student.”
That explains her shorts and T-shirt during the audition, and the damn flannel shirt that practically covered every inch of her body that she was wearing last night when I’d finally slipped into bed next to her. It also explains why she’s here competing in the games.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say unquestioningly. “I’ll also make sure you have something appropriate to wear to bed. If I allow a submissive to sleep in my bed, which I usually don’t, I sure as hell better be able to see her curves.”
“What’s wrong with what I wore to bed?” she asks indignantly, although her eyes are sparkling with a hint of humor. “It’s comfortable!”
“You can be comfortable on your own time,” I say firmly. “On my time, you dress to please me.”
“Yes, Sir,” she says teasingly, giving me a mock salute.
Her smile fades as I pull her forcibly to me, taking her mouth ruthlessly. But when I pull away, her breath is coming in short little pant
s.
I’ve made dinner reservations at the Barrymore, and we share a bottle of wine on the outside patio near the long fire pit while we wait for our table.
“The man you were with at the pool. Who is he to you?” I ask.
She casts a cautious look at me. “That’s Emmett. He’s my roommate,” she says, suddenly cool.
“In New York?”
She nods, clearly uncomfortable with my line of questioning.
“Are you romantically involved with him?” I ask, my voice harsher than I had intended.
“No.” Her response is quick, and I can see she’s telling me the truth, but it’s equally obvious that he’s far more to her than just a roommate.
“I looked at your application. He’s also your sometimes Dom?” I add skeptically, cocking an eyebrow at her, daring her to deny the obvious untruth.
“Yes,” she says defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.
I lean forward, making sure I have her full attention. “This is your one warning. Don’t ever lie to me again, Ava, or I promise you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
She pales at that, her slender throat swallowing hard before she picks up her glass and takes a sip of wine. Then that shuttered look that I’m starting to recognize slides into place.
I decide not to press the issue for now.
“Why don’t you like to be called Avalon?” I ask softly. The more determined she is not to tell me, the more determined I am to find out.
I study her face closely as she takes another sip of wine, wondering if she’s going to give me an honest answer this time. I can see the indecision flit across her face as she considers whether to answer me at all, but then she sighs, and I know I’ve won this small victory.
“My parents named me Avalon after the mythical island in the legend of Arthur. My father used to tell me he chose the name because it was a magical place that was happy and blessed, and that’s how my life would be. I believed him.” She pauses, her eyes downcast as she idly plays with the stem of her wineglass. “But after my father died, I realized it was all a lie. There’s no such thing as magic, and there’s certainly nothing blessed about my life,” she adds ruefully. “Now it just reminds me of everything I’ve lost.”
I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that,” I say, rubbing my thumb gently across her knuckles.
She pulls her hand away, but her eyes are soft as she says simply, “Thank you for trying to earn my trust.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that she thanked me for trying to earn her trust, implying I haven’t actually earned it. I frown. “If you want to stay in this competition, you’re going to have to trust me with everything, Ava. We could win the whole thing, but you’re going to have to loosen that control you cling to so tightly.”
A spark of hope flares in her eyes. “You really think we could win?”
I nod. “Definitely. But it means you’re going to have to give me full control and obey me without hesitation, even if you don’t want to or if what I’m asking you to do makes you uncomfortable. You have to trust that I won’t push you further than what you’re capable of. And you’re going to have to open up to me so I can know your limits. I can mold you into the perfect submissive, but you have to agree to my terms.”
She considers what I’ve said in that careful way of hers, and I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until she nods. “Okay,” she agrees tremulously. “I agree to your terms. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“God, Ava,” I groan, rubbing my hand over my face. What is this woman with her sweet vulnerability and soulful green eyes doing to me? I want to take her in my arms and comfort her as much as I want to force her to her knees, fuck her, and bend her to my will.
“Tell me one more thing,” I say, taking her hand in mine. This time she doesn’t pull away. “Tell me what you’re so afraid of.”
“I’m afraid of getting hurt,” she says quietly, and I can tell the effort it took her to tell me that simple truth.
“I will hurt you. I can promise you that,” I say softly. “But you’ll want me to. In fact, you’ll beg me for it.”
* * * *
When we get back to the Helix, it’s a few minutes before eight, so Ava and I go straight to the bar and slide into a table in the back of the room just as the meeting starts.
“Welcome to the Power Games, and congratulations,” Logan says. “Look around you.” He pauses dramatically as the men and women cast furtive glances at one another. “One couple in this room will become the face of the Helix—the Helix Dom and sub.”
He was born for this shit, and he’s in his element as he goes over the rules, reminding his spellbound audience that there will be no contact with anyone outside the Helix for the duration of the competition, although Doms and subs are allowed to leave the hotel together for preapproved outings. “But only if you’re accompanied by a camera crew.” He fixes me with a disapproving stare.
He adds that there will sometimes be additional guests invited to the group events for ambience and authenticity, as there were at the auction, and then he moves on to the topic of the photo shoot tomorrow, which creates a murmur of excitement. After advising the Doms that they will receive information regarding the first group challenge tomorrow evening, he dismisses us.
Emmett intercepts Ava and me just outside the door, his blonde sub trailing behind him.
“Ava! Where have you been all day? Are you okay?” His voice is laced with worry.
I step between him and Ava.
“Ava is not your concern,” I say tersely.
“Like hell she isn’t,” he growls. “Ava?” He looks questioningly at her, awaiting her answer.
She opens her mouth to say something, but I stop her with a stern look. “You do not have permission to speak,” I order her. Her mouth snaps closed. Good. She’s taking our discussion at the restaurant seriously. If we’re going to work as a Dom and sub, she’s got to trust me and rely on me for her every need, and that’s not going to happen as long as she keeps thinking of Emmett as her hero and savior. Plus, Emmett’s apparent belief that he’s the only one who can take care of her is quite frankly starting to piss me off.
I turn to him. “In case you don’t remember, I bought her at the auction, not you, and she’s mine until we get voted off the show. I will take care of her as I see fit, but I certainly don’t have to answer to you. She has a safe word should she choose to use it. In the meantime, I suggest you focus on training your own sub,” I add, nodding toward the blonde, who is looking at Ava with icy hatred.
Emmett’s hands ball into fists at his sides, and for a minute I think he’s actually going to throw a punch at me. But then he looks at Ava, and although she doesn’t say a word, something passes between them. He nods almost imperceptibly before taking a deep breath.
“Hurt her, and I’ll rip your balls off and shove them down your throat,” he says calmly before stalking toward the elevators without a backward glance at his sub, who flashes one more look of hatred at Ava before scampering after him.
Ava is staring at his retreating back with stricken eyes, and something like jealousy surges through me, which is ridiculous since she’s just a sub, and one I don’t even know very well. But she’s my sub, and I have no intention of letting her think about another man when she’s with me.
“Upstairs. Now!” I snap at her, grabbing her wrist and half dragging her to the elevators.
As soon as we’re in the suite, I shrug out of my jacket and surreptitiously flip the switch that turns on the cameras as she eyes me watchfully, not moving.
“I’m going to ask you again. What is Emmett to you?” I bite out the words, impatient with her lies.
“I told you. He’s my roommate.”
“He’s more than your roommate,” I say, taking a menacing step toward her. She stands her ground, looking me straight in the eye as if daring me to touch her, and my cock stirs to life. Her feis
ty streak turns me on as much as her innocence. “Roommates don’t communicate an entire conversation in a single look and then threaten to emasculate the man you’re with. But you said you’re not romantically involved with him, and he sure as hell isn’t your Dom. So what is he? A fuck buddy? A friend with benefits?”
Fire flashes in her eyes, and she takes another step forward and slaps me across the face hard enough to leave a mark. I stare at her in shock for minute, and then lust flares through me with a hard, stabbing vengeance. I grab her wrist, pulling her against my chest, so close that her eyes are inches from mine, and I can feel the thump of her heartbeat.
“Big mistake, Ava,” I say darkly.
My mouth crushes hers in a savage kiss, brutally forcing her to accept the bold intrusion of my tongue. I ravage her, bruising her lips with mine and plunging my tongue deeply into her mouth over and over again, taking what I want from her as I hold her immobile, letting her feel the hard length of my cock pressing against her. I want to punish her, to brand her with my mouth so she knows she belongs to me and only me, but dammit if she isn’t kissing me back, her tongue stroking mine.
I close my hand lightly around her throat as I place my lips near her ear.
“Rule number three. Never hit your Dom.”
Her breath is coming in fast pants, and her eyes are dark with a mixture of fear, anger, and what I recognize as pure, unvarnished desire. Apparently my innocent sub likes it a little rough, and I couldn’t be more delighted to oblige her.
“Lie facedown over the desk,” I snap, releasing her as I unbuckle my belt, pulling it from its loops with a soft whoosh.
Her eyes widen. “But…”
“Now, Ava!” The look in my eyes has her scrambling to obey.
She hesitantly bends over the desk and arranges herself over the smooth wood surface, her back arching and her breasts straining against her shirt as she looks back nervously at me. My dick throbs at the look of fear mixed with excitement in her eyes.