Patrick shrugged. “I seem to have an excess of friends who keep forgetting their training of late, Cameron. It makes me wonder if all of you were in a slow learners’ class when communication was emphasized or if the instructors were lacking. Come to my office.”
Cameron trudged along behind Patrick. He felt like a schoolboy in trouble with the principal, summoned to stand before his desk, but he was going to do everything by the book from here on in. If he had done so a year ago, or even sought this man’s counsel, then he wouldn’t be such a fuck up.
“Who did you get to replace Graham?” he asked Patrick once they were ensconced in his nicely appointed office.
“Jonathon Spence. He moved here from New York. Well trained from what I’ve seen so far, but hey, Doms seem just as inclined to act like idiots as the other guy where some subs are concerned, so who knows?”
Cameron smiled ruefully. Patrick knew something. But that was okay. He was going to tell him everything, anyhow.
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, Patrick picked up the house phone and spoke quietly into it. He hung up and looked at Cameron with inscrutable eyes.
“She’s still here. She always books a room for the night rather than drive back home. She’s sensible that way. I have a great deal of admiration for that sub.”
“How long has she been coming here, Patrick?”
“I can’t say anymore, Cameron. I didn’t want you taking off and storming down the highway after her, so I told you she was here and safe, but I won’t breach her confidentiality and trust.”
Cameron winced. “Okay, but will you take her a message for me?”
“That I can do. But if she doesn’t respond, you will not take any further steps. Are we agreed?”
“Agreed.” Cameron fumbled with pen and paper and awkwardly penned the most important missive of his life. Curious, how the words flowed yet were so paltry. Patrick took it and stood. He gestured for Cameron keep sitting and went out the door. Cameron dropped his head into his hands and resigned himself to a long wait. But he would wait for however long it took.
* * * *
Olivia stared at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser in the member’s room she had rented for the night. Jordan had cared for her with his usual skilled tenderness before taking her to this room, but it was Cameron’s voice that intruded throughout the whole process. She had been coming to the Club for nearly six months now, seeking some kind of fulfillment in her life. She had retreated again after Cameron had blindsided her, ferreted out her secret. She had thrown herself into work, bullying Steve into completing much of the work at the golf course ahead of schedule, including the spa. Hiring and training staff occupied her, as did the decorating of her cold, sterile house. She fell into bed each night too exhausted to think. She had no interest in men and less in sex, but at times she craved the kind of release Cameron had visited upon her. She craved it until she couldn’t concentrate. So she had carefully searched out this Club and commenced with a different double life.
The interview process had astounded her. Not the medical piece but rather the intrusiveness that spoke to the psychological aspect of this lifestyle. It comforted her though, reassuring her that nothing would happen that she didn’t want or ask for, and she came to completely understand the power transfer. Master Patrick had been quick to recognize her need for anonymity, and it was he who had suggested the mask. Many subs apparently wore hoods, but Olivia didn’t need that kind of sensory deprivation. She simply didn’t want to be recognized while she had her needs met. She learned about boundaries and how sex and discipline didn’t have to go together. She decided that her hard boundaries would include no actual intercourse and no hardcore D/s, although she initially thought she wanted to be beaten bloody to distract her from her emotional pain. Instead, she accepted that reaching subspace and then release could free her and give her the strength to get through the weeks she spent working toward nothing at all. And the future loomed long and empty and bleak.
She had toured the Club for several nights before she felt comfortable in asking Master Jordan to discipline her, in one of the private rooms. He had treated her very well, each and every time, and, like Cameron, had known what she needed, at least physically. She would never connect with another man on an emotional level again. What Master Jordan gave her was enough. It had to be enough. Her heart and soul were cinders, burned on the altar of hurt pride and betrayal.
Tonight had been her first night in the soft dungeon. Olivia didn’t want real, extreme pain. Not the pain of stripes or even wax. She hadn’t even been certain of the single tail but trusted Master Jordan. Being naked and exposed in front of other people, while masked and anonymous, had at least titillated her and built her arousal long before Master Jordan secured her hands and stretched her up. She knew that her ribs could be counted, that her hipbones poked through her skin. Her rounded thighs and ass had even melted away under the onslaught of long days of working, interrupted sleep and a lack of appetite. But still she had felt beautiful in her own skin.
The initial strokes had quickly turned into sensation, and Olivia had let go, trusted him, and the reward had been nearly as powerful as anything she had experienced with Cameron. Her skin had prickled with awareness when Master Jordan had gone down on her, and it had been like Cameron was there. As indeed he had been. Her postorgasmic bliss hadn’t impaired her hearing. She had heard him call out to her, had known his voice, and had telegraphed the ensuing panic that spooked the house Dom. He hadn’t questioned her, had taken even greater care of her, but she knew that things had changed. Once again Cameron had robbed her of something. It had changed her relationship with Master Jordan, who was now giving off vibes that he wanted more from her. More than she could give, and so she was going to have to put an end to their connection or leave the Club. Why did Cameron continue to haunt her? A tap on the door drew her away from her soul searching.
“Olivia.” Master Patrick’s voice had her fumbling to open the door quickly. Like Cameron, he wasn’t to be questioned or denied.
He held a piece of paper out to her and she took it, albeit tentatively. She looked at him, and he shrugged. “May I come in?”
She jumped back, flustered, and awkwardly smoothed the robe down. “Of course. Please.”
Patrick walked to the opposite wall and turned to lean on it. He folded his arms against his chest and waited. Olivia fingered the note and then unfolded it. There were only a few lines, but it was enough to make her breath shorten and her heart pound. Olivia, I apologize. I was an arrogant, stupid, selfish fool. Please give me another chance. I love you. Cameron
She sank down on the bed and covered her face with both hands, crumpling the note as she did so. She tried to cry silently but the sobs increased in volume until they overwhelmed the pounding of her heart. When she couldn’t cry any longer, Patrick’s bulk compressed the mattress beside her, and she accepted the wad of tissues he pressed into her hand. He put his arm around her and stroked her upper arm.
“I can’t, Master Patrick. I can’t trust him. It’s such a mess.”
Patrick’s deep voice grounded her, helped her focus. “He didn’t give you much reason to trust him from what I understand, Olivia. Cameron hasn’t had a real relationship since I met him, and now I see why. He has always wanted you, my dear. I can only imagine what it meant to him to find you again. Not that it excuses his blind, selfish intent to pursue and possess you with no regard for the process. Although I can empathize somewhat.”
Olivia mopped her face and blew her nose as she considered Patrick’s words. They rang true, but she was still angry and hurt. “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered.
“I have a proposition for you, Olivia,” Patrick replied. “Hear me out if you would. You don’t have to make a hasty decision. Cameron doesn’t deserve much kindness and can wait. I will confess that I have had my fill of outlaw Doms as it were, Doms who have stepped outside of their role and disrespected their training
because they fell ass over face in love with someone. I’m going to offer a remedial class and suggest that Cameron come for a refresher. He will, of course, require a sub…”
Olivia felt a drift of hysterical laughter welling up and fought it. More insanity. What had happened to the world of Andrew Foster’s wife? His widow? “I need to think about it.”
Patrick nodded. “Take all the time you like, sub. If you decide to participate, then I will expect you to relocate for the duration, perhaps two to three weeks. I don’t imagine that will be a problem, considering your status?”
“May I tell you in the morning?”
A shadow passed over Patrick’s face. “I won’t be here, Olivia. I’ve been gone long enough from my wife as it is. But tell Master Jordan. I’ll alert him, and if you agree, he will place you in a larger room. You won’t need anything that the Club can’t provide. But Olivia? If you choose not to participate, then you may feel free to continue your exploration of the lifestyle here, in my Club. Master Jordan has a special feeling for you, and I won’t deny you this. Cameron will be denied access.”
Olivia was overwhelmed. “I so appreciate this, Master Patrick. I hope your wife will be okay.” It sounded flimsy and hollow, and she couldn’t make herself share the fact that she would have to leave the Club, but it was the best she could do.
Patrick nodded to her and made his way to the door. He gave her one final glance and let himself out. Olivia slipped beneath the covers and prepared for a long night of thinking. She fell dead asleep instead.
* * * *
Cameron looked up when Patrick entered the office. He dared to hope. “Did she read my note? Did she say anything?”
“She read it and cried until I thought she would be sick. I find I want to test out my new double tail on you, my friend. You are a total bastard, but then I assume you know that.”
“I know it. I guess that’s that then. I won’t push her, Patrick. I’ve learned that much.” Cameron fought to keep his voice even.
“Shove it, Cameron.” Patrick’s impatience startled Cameron.
“I am offering a remedial class for Doms such as yourself, Cameron. Retraining as it were. Olivia may agree to be a sub for this cause. Don’t!” Patrick raised his hand to stem Cameron’s excited reaction. “Hear me out.”
Cameron nodded and kept his mouth shut with effort.
“If Olivia agrees, she will live here during this process, as will you. That is, if you agree to retraining. Perhaps you will mend your relationship although I’m not hopeful, you idiot. This will be a time-limited offer. I would be tempted to invite Graham, but he appears to have corrected his behavior. Jamison Landry is another matter.”
Patrick could name call all he wanted. He could infer that Cameron was in competition for the village moron if he liked. Cameron had heard some choice gossip about Jamison, and knew it was a fair comparison. Cameron would leap at this second, or was it his third chance. Hell, he would crawl through fire.
“How long until I know?”
Patrick shrugged. “I’ll call you when I know. Now, I’m going home to Madi. Good night. See yourself out.”
Cameron wondered how he would get through the hours until Olivia made her decision. He decided to find Trevor and see if his friend was ready to leave or if he should just wait for him in the bar, where he would drink coffee and keep his phone handy. He dared hope.
Trevor was in the middle of discussing a contract with the little waitress in the bar. Cameron recognized the body language. While he was hardly one to give advice, considering his own current state of affairs, he knew that Trevor was never going to find his one woman if he kept hooking up with pain sluts and newbies. Trevor needed a mature, experienced sub, yet he avoided those like the plague. If Cameron was lucky enough to retrieve things with Olivia, then maybe he would have a heart-to-heart with his friend. He found a quiet corner and waited for Trevor’s latest to notice him and take his order for coffee.
Chapter Twelve
Master Jordan clearly disapproved of her decision. Olivia felt the wave of emotion roll off him when she asked him to take her to the room that had been set aside for her, but he didn’t say anything directly. She didn’t know if Cameron would be sharing it with her, but she realized that once she had accepted Patrick’s offer, there was no going back, and that all choices had been taken from her. It made her feel incredibly relieved, and free, and she would have felt totally comfortable if it weren’t for Master Jordan’s definite angst. He didn’t verbalize his opinion, however, merely nodded and carried her little overnight bag to the room.
Olivia was impressed by its opulence. A king-size bed dominated the large room, the thick, four posters looming, reaching to the high ceilings, the intricate head- and footboards grounding it on the plush area rug. A heavy, embroidered comforter in deep shades of red and black covered it, matching the two sets of window coverings. Dark-crimson walls added to the feeling of the bordello, and glittering chandeliers and sconces provided the lighting, reflected by the countless mirrors. One could almost overlook the manacles on one wall, the hooks in the cove ceiling and the rings fastened into the bedposts at varying heights. She was certain the wardrobe held more than clothing and decided to check it out as soon as she was alone.
Master Jordan pushed open the door to the adjoining bathroom and she saw a huge shower stall, a separate claw-foot tub, a large marble sink set atop of a vanity, a bidet, and toilet. There was a hook in the ceiling above the shower, evident through the sparkling glass doors. Olivia felt the wetness between her thighs and avoided looking at the house Dom.
She watched as he rummaged through her case, removing only her brush and lip gloss. He placed those items on the sink.
“You’ll find everything else you need under the sink, sub. Give me your clothes.”
Olivia bit her lip but quickly stripped, handing over her garments. Master Jordan folded them and tucked them into her suitcase. He nodded to her and walked to the door.
“You’ll get your possessions back at the end of the training, or before, if you use your safe word or if Master Cameron fu…fails to complete it.”
“Master Jordan?” Olivia spoke diffidently. “Thank you for everything.”
His face softened for a moment. “It has been my pleasure, Olivia. If things don’t, well if they don’t work out as you hoped, I will be pleased to continue with you.”
Olivia knew she should say something, explain, but had no words. She didn’t know if she was doing the right thing. But she had woken this morning to discover that her subconscious had made the decision in the night. There had really been no choice. She was incomplete without Cameron, although he definitely needed to clean up his act. She was far better versed in this lifestyle than she had been nine months ago, and he had overstepped. If he let her down again, she would kill him. Messily. She smiled at Master Jordan and bowed her head. The door shut nearly soundlessly behind him.
The wardrobe held a variety of implements, some she recognized, others she didn’t. They all intrigued her. She was curious as to how this training would unfold but not anxious or afraid. Cameron wouldn’t hurt her physically, not really, and she had to trust that he would take care of her heart, too, make amends. She settled on the bed to wait.
A tap on the door brought her to her feet. It opened slowly and Patrick maneuvered a tray inside, pushing the door shut with a backward shove of his foot. Olivia hastened to take the tray and put in on the dresser. She could smell coffee and toast. This powerful Dom had brought her breakfast. Her stomach rumbled and she felt actual hunger for the first time in months.
“Fill your plate and eat, sub, while I outline what will take place over the next while.”
Olivia chose a piece of toast and some fruit, then poured a cup of coffee, adding a generous dollop of cream. She then poured Patrick some and took it to him where he now lounged in the strangely shaped chair near the bed. He accepted it and flicked his gaze over her body before motioning her back to her meal
. She perched on the bed and crunched her way through the toast, sipping her coffee in between bites.
“Cameron is concerned about your health, Olivia,” Patrick informed her. “He is not pleased by your weight loss.”
Olivia said nothing. She knew that Patrick understood why she hadn’t been able to eat. The medical she had undergone prior to being accepted here had almost precluded her membership because of how underweight she was.
“You will follow all directions regarding food intake and anything else I or Master Cameron or any other Dom here dictate, for the sake of your health, sub. Clear?”
Olivia nodded and then quickly verbalized her agreement. Doms didn’t tolerate nonverbal communication unless a sub’s mouth was full.
“Fine. Now, I have given this some thought. I won’t be present very often because of my commitments at home, but Master Jonathon will preside. You haven’t met him, but I have decided to use his services rather than Master Jordan. I think you know why.” Patrick continued without waiting for her response. “Be ready in an hour. He will come to escort you to Cameron. Are you willing to turn yourself over without question?”
Olivia took a breath. “I am, Master Patrick. I do want to be sure that Cameron is aware of my hard boundaries.”
Patrick shook his head. “No, Olivia. That will be negotiated through the training. I believe that is the only way to build trust in this situation. Cameron will have to find his way with you, pay very close attention to what you need, not what he wants. Do you understand?”
“Am I to have a safe word?”
“Of course. Cameron might fuck up again.” On that cheery note, Patrick stood. “Leave the tray. And, Olivia? I hope you get what you want, as well as what you need. I’ll be apprised of progress, and will see you at a later date.”
Young, Allyson - Madness [Club Pleasure 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 11