by Lexi Blake
She shook her head, her hands running up his side as though she couldn’t help but touch him. “Nope. They do try to make it easy. It’s all money in and money out. What’s going to happen when you have to add in projection costs and…oh, no, the dreaded payroll accounting.”
Thank god he could cook because all those other things kind of gave him the hives. “I was hoping that someone smarter than me would kind of guide me down that path. Maybe some super intelligent woman who managed to put herself through college and who’s about to earn a highly rated business degree.”
She stepped back and that wall between them seemed to slam into place again. “Wow, uhm, of course I’ll look at your plans, but like I said, I have a job lined up.”
What had put that look on her face? Did she think he was trying to use her? “Hey, I wasn’t asking you to work for free. I would pay you a consultation fee.”
She shook her head and seemed to brush it off. “Don’t be silly. I would love to take a look at your business plan and very likely tear it apart and tell you all the places you’re going wrong. No. Seriously, I’ll give it a look and tell you what I think. And I would love to see the space. I like the Sundance location, but you better have foot traffic.”
He was relieved the awkward moment had passed. “I absolutely have foot traffic. And the Bass is right down the street. I thought I could pick up some of the after-theater crowd.”
She went up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. “Good. E-mail it to me or print it out and bring in what you have and I’ll give you my opinion. My new job happens to be in downtown Fort Worth, so I expect free lunches. Also, I’m not wearing a puppy collar. I’m a free-range puppy. I’m very well trained.”
He would simply leave the pink collar and leash he’d bought for her in his locker and she would never have to know. “Of course.”
She grinned then turned and started to walk toward the club. Damn, but he liked to watch her walk, her hips swaying.
He should have thought about that leash. She’d been leashed for much of her life. It would rankle. She enjoyed submission on a sexual level. It gave her permission to enjoy the sex, but Deena would always need to know she was a partner in play. It was why he feared she wouldn’t enjoy life with some random Dom who wouldn’t understand why she was here and what she needed deep down.
He followed her, feeling more optimistic than he had before.
* * * *
Eric was leaving Top. Eric was starting his own restaurant.
Eric wasn’t Eddie.
That was her new mantra. She looked down at the pretty sapphire-colored corset and tiny PVC mini she was wearing, sure reminders of the fact that her new friend wasn’t anything like her old husband. Eddie had rarely bought her a birthday gift, much less something as decadent and luxurious as a new set of fet wear. It had been waiting for her the day after what she now referred to as Butt Plug Armageddon. Once Eric had decided to take control, he’d bought her three new sets of club wear. There was the one she was wearing, a super slutty mini dress with fuck me heels, and a red corset with the tiniest thong she’d ever seen. They all made her feel sexy and just the right side of trashy and…
Taken care of. Those stupid clothes made her feel taken care of.
Though he’d merely said he enjoyed buying clothes for his sub and hinted that he would do it for any sub, she wasn’t stupid. He’d done it for her because he’d seen the sad state of her clothes and understood how they made her feel.
He was too good to be true. Had she found the flaw? He needed business help and she was good at business. Everyone knew what her degree was in. Well, if she managed to pass.
“You look very serious for a girl about to bark all night,” Tiff said with a glint in her eye.
She stared at her friend through the mirror. It was all happening so fast. It was going to be hard to leave Top, but she would still have this club.
Maybe.
How would she handle seeing Eric with another sub? Their contract only lasted so long and she already knew how dangerous it would be to sign another with him. If she let herself, she would fall in love with the man, and that couldn’t happen.
She forced the thoughts away and closed her locker, turning to Tiffany. “I am not a yippy puppy. I’m a free-range puppy. You let him put a collar on you?”
Tiffany was wearing a thin silver collar around her neck that was attached to a rhinestone-studded leash. She laughed and waved off the thought. “It’s only play, D. It’s not like I’m actually a puppy. Gage and I are having some fun. I’m pretty sure that when I start chewing on his leathers I can get him to swat my ass with a rolled up newspaper.”
Sounded like a fun Thursday night. “I don’t know. It kind of freaks me out a little.”
Tiff sighed and leaned against the lockers. “Because you already had one man treat you like shit and you had to watch your mom go through it, too. I, on the other hand, was treated like a princess by Mommy and Daddy and therefore can have a sense of humor about the whole dog thing. Also, growing up my mother always had a Maltese. Seriously, they were all named Gucci and we numbered them. When my mom died, she was buried in a coffin that smelled like Chanel and we had to get special permission to inter the dogs’ ashes with her. The mausoleum my parents want me to one day join them in also houses six Maltese dogs in designer urns. Somewhere in heaven they’re yipping and eating caviar while my mom lunches with Audrey Hepburn.”
Tiffany had an odd life. A sudden thought hit Deena. Tiff adored her father and he came into Top on a regular basis, but she never talked much about her upbringing. Deena only knew it had been privileged. “Tell me you weren’t named for the jewelry store.”
Tiff winced. “Sorry, can’t do it. Have you met my sisters, Burberry and Versace? I got the easy end of that stick.”
“Why are you doing this training class and the internship? You could afford to buy a membership to Sanctum.”
“Number one, I like babies so the idea of paying my way into a membership by watching babies doesn’t bother me at all. I would do that for free. Babies make me happy. My sisters will never have them. Berry says having children would ruin her figure and she’s trying to become a supermodel. I tried to tell her that years of eating like crap already ruined her figure, but she’s an optimist, and V is living in a tent in France because she doesn’t want to leave a footprint on the fragile earth. Her words, not mine. She’ll probably have a ton of kids because she thinks birth control pills will give her cancer, so she counts the days on some weird beaded stick thing. Yeah, those beads aren’t going to stop Frenchie’s sperm, but she thinks she knows better. Number two, I don’t have a lot of money. My dad does. Would he give it to me? In a heartbeat. The trouble is he raised me way too well. He raised me to want to make something of myself. What can I say? I want to make my dad proud and that means working hard. Number three, I want to paint.”
“You can paint without starving.”
“Yes, but what would I paint? What would it mean? The world is a way bigger place than it seems. I want to see it, be a part of it, and I can’t do that if I’m behind some ornate wall designed by Karl Lagerfeld. At the end of the day everyone has it rough. That’s what I’ve figured out. Rich, poor, beautiful, or unattractive we all have something to get through and it always feels like the end of the world. It’s what makes us human.”
She had a point, but still. “Some people have it worse than others.”
“There is always someone who has it worse than you. Always someone who has it better. If you spend your whole life comparing good and bad, you’re going to come up short, D. And you’re going to waste what time you have. My mom had it great. She had money and love and everything a person could ask for, and she also got terminal cancer at the age of forty-six. That was her life, the good and the bad. And when she went, it was in style because my mother knew how to live. While she fought I never once heard her complain or bemoan her fate.”
“Because she knew she had it so goo
“No, because she wouldn’t waste the time she had on fear and regret.” Tiff reached out and smoothed back Deena’s hair. “So I’m going to go and be a puppy and bark and yip like old Gucci and see if I can have some fun.”
She made it sound so easy. Deena knew she wasn’t talking about the puppy play. Tiffany was talking about Eric. Everyone seemed to talk about Eric around her these days, like they were already some established couple and she needed to run everything by him before making a decision.
She didn’t need a damn man to make a decision for her.
But wouldn’t it be better to have a real partner? Not someone who made decisions for her, but someone who helped her, who stood by her even when she made the wrong move.
“Hey, did you talk to Chef about your test?” Tiffany started to walk toward the door. They were the last two left in the locker room. If they didn’t get their butts in gear, there would be some puppy punishment in their future.
She shook her head. “It’s not his problem. It’s my shift. You’re already working and Ally and Macon have plans that night with his family.”
“What about Jenni?”
“I already asked Jenni. She’s got a concert she’s going to. Sure it doesn’t start until after the restaurant closes, but how is she going to do her hair if she has to work?”
“Selfish bitch. I totally worked a shift for her so she could go on a date. I’ll talk to her. Or punch her in the face. One of the two.”
She did not want to cause a fight. “I’ll make due.”
Tiffany stopped her. “If you don’t pass this test, you don’t graduate.”
Didn’t she know it. Her last class was being watched over by an asshole professor who seemed to enjoy making life tough for undergrads. Their entire grade was the final. No graded homework. No participation. No way to even know if they were getting the material. One test would decide if she graduated on time or had to refuse her dream job because she would no longer be qualified. Everything was riding on that stupid test and she couldn’t get anyone to cover her shift.
She could call in sick, but that would put the burden on everyone else. Or she could suck it up and study after shift when her brain no longer functioned.
“If you won’t talk to Chef, tell Eric.” Tiffany opened the door. “He can make things happen.”
That seemed too intimate. They played together. They didn’t do serious things like figuring out problems. She needed to keep it light and casual so when the time came she could walk away.
God, she already didn’t want to walk away. She was in too deep. She was bargaining and their contract wasn’t up yet. Maybe they could keep up the D/s relationship. At the time she’d thought he would live in Dallas and she would only see him on club nights. That would be cool.
But now he was going to be living near her. He would want more. He would end up wanting everything she had.
“I’ll think about it,” she murmured.
“Don’t think about it too long,” Tiffany replied as she waved to Gage. “It’s coming up fast. Hey, maybe we could put Bas in a server uniform and make him wait tables. I would pay to see that show.”
“Bas?” Surely she wasn’t talking about the very proper Sebastian.
Tiffany shrugged. “He needed a nickname to work against that two by four someone shoved up his muscular backside.”
She could see Eric on the other side of the dungeon. He was already set up with a chair. One for both of them. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so different. She sat in his lap every night. It was kind of nice. Wait. What had she said? “How do you know Sebastian has a muscular backside?”
“Is that the way puppies move?” Gage called out across the room.
Tiffany wrinkled her nose and dropped to her knees. “I swear I would chew his shoe all up but he wears them in the ER, so I could get some horrible disease. And I know about Sebastian’s backside because it was pretty much on display at my house the night you sent me home with the bastard. He wears tighty-whities by the way. Super muscular buns. He must do a ton of squats. Are you going to make me do this alone? I’ll stop talking and bark all the way across the dungeon.”
Deena groaned, facing a tough decision. Dignity or gossip. Damn it. She dropped down. The floors at Sanctum were kept very clean and there were anti-bac stations all over the place. She would survive. She started crawling, matching Tiffany’s pace. “You slept with the sommelier?”
“No, but he apparently thought I was too drunk to be left alone, so he was asleep on my couch and he’d pushed off the blanket and I got a look at that butt. Gorgeous butt. Too bad it’s attached to him. Pretentious ass.” Tiffany sighed. “He got all huffy because I saw him without his legs on.”
“Legs? I thought he only lost one.”
“Nope, it’s both, and what he has left is all hot, too, but the man himself is twelve kinds of prissy. I got a big old lecture on how I shouldn’t drink to excess because it will ruin my palate and how it’s impolite to stare at a man’s legs. Or rather his non-legs. I tried to explain that I was looking at his ass, but that only pissed him off more. Did you know he’s already got Master’s rights here?”
“Wow, how did he get them but not Eric?” She scooted along, praying her boobs didn’t fall out.
“Rumor has it, he spent a lot of time at some club in London and the owner vouched for him. It’s Sanctum’s sister club. I am not looking forward to being in the same dungeon with that man. Well, I am, but I’m not because he makes me feel all crappy about stuff I shouldn’t have to feel crappy about. I told him he could look at my butt if it would make him feel better and he said something very uptight and left.”
“Look at that,” a deep voice said. “Our puppies are playing and not doing what they were commanded to do. Sit up, Tiffany.”
Her friend immediately sat up, her hands coming in front of her chest like little paws, and she made a yipping sound, but not before she’d winked Deena’s way.
Gage stood in front of her, picking up her leash in one hand while he tapped a crop against his leg with the other. “Bad puppy. Bad puppies get spanked.”
Gage brought the crop down on Tiffany’s ass and she yelped, playing her part to the hilt. She and Gage started to play. Eric simply leaned over and picked her up. She was lifted into his strong arms.
“My puppy is a lap dog. She doesn’t like to get her paws dirty.” Eric smiled down at her as he started to walk back toward the stage. “I was surprised to see you crawling. Have you changed your mind?”
Why were his big arms so comfy? He was the only man who’d ever carried her around and she liked it more than she cared to admit. “I had to crawl next to Tiffany to find out how she’d seen the sommelier in his undies.”
Eric’s eyes went wide and he stopped briefly. “She slept with Sebastian? I knew she wasn’t sleeping with Gage, but I’m shocked she’s into Sebastian. They seem so different.”
He seemed to know some gossip she didn’t. Tiffany hadn’t said much about her training Dom beyond the fact that she enjoyed playing with him. They actually made a very hot couple. “How do you know she’s not sleeping with him? Everyone else seems to be sleeping together. I’m pretty sure Althea’s doing her sub.”
“Oh, yeah, those two are fucking like rabbits. Well, one very submissive Harvard-educated rabbit and Althea. But Gage is married. His wife’s a top, too. She’s already got Mistress rights and Gage wanted to give it a try. They intend to play and top subs but without sex. It’ll be interesting to see how that works out,” Eric explained. “But I want to hear that story about Tiff and Sebastian after the class. For now, be my sweet puppy. We’re going to watch a scene and then play for a bit.”
He settled into his seat, never once showing a single sign that she weighed a thing.
Ian Taggart stepped onto the stage in front of them. “Welcome bitches.”
“Ian!” Charlotte wasn’t far behind him.
Big Tag shrugged. “It’s puppy play night, baby. I apologize. I’m supposed to be more correct in my speech. Welcome owners, bitches, and dog.” He nodded toward the lone male sub in the room. “Sorry, Keen. Male puppies are just dogs and you should be very good tonight because I’ve heard Althea’s into cock and ball torture, so you might find yourself neutered.”
“I believe I asked you to be more politically correct in your speech,” Charlotte muttered.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen, baby.” Master Ian held up a long cylindrical object. “Get your puppies settled and let’s talk about violet wands. This particular one is about to light up my mouthy puppy’s nipples.”
Eric’s hands began to move over her thighs and down to her knees before coming back up. “My puppy needs to be petted. She’s very anxious today. Like a shaky Chihuahua. Here, pretty girl, have a treat.” He pulled a chocolate out of a baggy he’d set beside them. “Macon made them specially for sweet puppies.”
Macon’s handmade chocolates. When she reached for it, Eric pulled his hand away. Of course. Puppies ate from their Master’s hands. Well, except Harrison apparently. Althea had a dog bowl set up for him. Yeah, Deena was happy her Master knew what she could and couldn’t take. She leaned forward and wrapped her lips around his fingers, taking the chocolate from his hand and giving him a lick as she pulled back and enjoyed the rich taste.
Eric’s hands moved over her, petting her constantly. She settled in and relaxed. Being his pet wasn’t so bad.
Three hours later, she kind of wished she had the courage to ask Eric to come inside and spend the night with her. He pulled into her parking lot and put the car into park. He always did this. He would walk her upstairs and make sure she locked the door. At first she’d been able to hear her mother in her head complaining that the man obviously didn’t think she had any sense if he didn’t believe she could lock her door on her own. Her mother had taken a dim view of the men in her life playing at being gentlemen. “Playing” being the operative word.
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