But to what end?
He only wanted to be involved with a woman who wouldn’t fight him on every issue. He needed a sub. He wanted her. Alex didn’t consider himself a fool, but he sure as hell was behaving like one. “Dinner?” he asked.
She was silent for so long that he thought she wasn’t going to answer. When she spoke, her voice was more subdued than he’d ever heard it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. But thank you for the offer,” she said before ending the call.
He sat back and reached for a pencil. He drummed it against the desktop.
She might have turned him down, but that didn’t mean anything. Like a good girl, she’d called him straight back. She’d hesitated for a long time before refusing his invitation. He was more comfortable with facts and figures than with relationships, but unless he missed his bet, she’d wanted to agree.
He wasn’t sure where that knowledge left him or what to do with it. For the first time in his life, a woman had perplexed him.
* * * *
Chelsea held her clipboard close to her chest and looked around the large room one last time.
She, Jennifer and their team had spent six intense weeks doing the preparation work, and the big day had finally arrived.
In keeping with the hoedown theme, red-and-white chequered cloths covered rectangular tables. Bright yellow sunflowers dropped their fat faces over skinny vases.
Two bars were being stocked with good beer and fine wine. A popular band was tuning up on the stage, and Jennifer was in last-minute discussions with the lead singer about the timing of announcements. Tables filled with silent auction items lined the walls. And the scent of the barbecue beef and pork wafted over the mountain valley.
For a month, they’d sent press releases to all the Denver outlets and to the news media in all the nearby towns, and they’d spent a day in the area about two weeks ago talking to local merchants, and pinning up flyers.
She had updated Monahan Capital’s Web site with information, she’d done several e-mail campaigns to everyone they’d ever done business with, and she’d shamelessly peppered every social networking site and asked her friends and family to do the same. She’d blasted the band’s fans, the catering company’s client list, the charity’s donors, even the lodge’s employees and past guests. For good measure, she’d contacted some celebrity spokespeople, too.
She’d pretty much notified everyone in North America of the event.
The weather had even cooperated, so they could also utilise the outdoor space. If things went as well as she and Jennifer hoped, they would need all the room they could get.
She checked her watch. Thirty minutes until the doors opened. Things were ahead of schedule, thank God. A table, manned by several temporary workers, was in the foyer. They’d been trained to sell raffle tickets as well as encourage high bidding on the auction items.
Everyone was even dressed according to her specifications. She and Jenn each wore denim skirts, white blouses, and they’d added a red bandana around their necks as an accessory.
She’d tried to think through everything. Truthfully, her company had never worked harder on an event. This could put her firm on the map, but there was much, much more than that on the line.
She wanted to please Master Alexander. He’d made it clear, even to Jenn, that he wanted nothing to do with the fundraiser. He didn’t like being thwarted by anyone, especially his younger brother.
Chelsea told herself the event mattered only to her portfolio. But that was a lie. She still wanted to please him. It was the same reason she’d practised for so many hours while he’d been training her. His good opinion of her mattered. Maybe too much.
When he’d invited her to dinner over a month ago, she’d desperately wanted to accept. But for her own sanity, she’d refused. She loved him too much to hang out, or even scene. Every evening when she finally slowed down, she thought of him. Keeping memories of their time together at bay had become a full-time, and mostly futile, job.
Chelsea had mentally rehearsed how she was going act when they came face-to-face. She’d be wearing a bright smile. She would exude tons of confidence as she offered her hand and wished him lots of success. Her demeanour would be professional, and she’d give a quick excuse and move off and see to some pressing demand. At the end of the evening, she’d leave Jennifer to deal with the Monahan brothers while she wrapped up the other details. The two of them would drive home together in Jennifer’s car. Chelsea had thought everything through.
“Haven’t we talked about your posture?”
The sound of Master Alexander’s voice snaked up her spine and she froze, fear all but holding her immobilised. How the hell had she missed his arrival?
“Face me, please.”
It took several seconds to regain control of her faculties. What stunned her most was her instinctive reaction. The sound of his voice made her bend her knees before she caught herself. And it never occurred to her to refuse to do as he asked.
As she turned, she straightened her shoulders and pasted on the smile she’d tried out in front of the mirror this morning. Oh, God. How was it possible that he was even more handsome than she remembered? His dark hair was styled back from his forehead, exposing its firm angularity. He wore tight-fitting blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a denim shirt. He’d skipped a tie and, instead, had left the top button of his shirt undone.
Her clipboard still against her chest, she offered her right hand to him. All of a sudden she wished she’d worn sexy, rather than comfortable shoes. “Nice to see you, Alex.”
“Master Alexander,” he corrected. “Or Sir will do.”
She wasn’t tempted to look around to see if anyone was watching. But she didn’t respond in kind. “I hope the party is everything you deserve.”
“It’s going to be wonderful.” He glanced at her hand, but he didn’t take it.
No one had ever done that before, so she wasn’t sure what to do next. Drop it? Wait? This man, more than any other, made her feel awkward.
“I’ve received daily updates on your progress and God knows I think you contacted every person I’ve ever known. I’ve heard from friends I had in kindergarten.”
She dropped her hand, and because she wasn’t sure what to do, gripped the clipboard tighter. “Hopefully we’ve contacted hundreds more you’ve never heard of.”
“You’ve done well,” he told her. “And you’re going to get what you deserve.”
“Ah…”
“I think we could start with a spanking for your lack of respect.”
Her mouth dried. This was exactly why she had refused to go out with him. Responding to him was all too easy. More than anything she wanted to feel his hand on her bare buttocks.
“And then we will move on to the fact you went behind my back.”
She searched his features. His tone was neutral, and one brow was cocked, but more questioningly than anything. He didn’t appear angry.
“And when you’re ready to tell us both the truth, we’ll go on from there.”
“The truth?” She scowled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It hit me about a week ago. I know a lot about you. You’re not a coward. When I invited you to dinner, you should have accepted, if for no other reason than to have another opportunity to hammer me about this event and ensure my cooperation.”
Her breaths were becoming shorter and closer together.
“But you turned me down,” he continued. “So I started to wonder what you were afraid of.”
He took a step towards her, but she stood her ground, and that was one of the more difficult things she’d ever done.
“I wanted to know if you were more scared of me or yourself.”
“You don’t frighten me, Alex,” she lied.
“No?”
This time, when he entered her comfort zone, she took a step back. A man with a camera and a badge walked into the room. Jennifer caught her eye and indicated she would handle the rep
orter. Chelsea gave the other woman a quick nod.
“I saw the way you reacted to the sound of my voice. You wanted to kneel.”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Another three spanks for every lie you tell yourself, sub.”
“I…”
“Admit it.”
She was pissed off at herself for backing up, so this time, she moved towards him, juggling the clipboard to one side as if it were armour. With her free hand, she pointed a finger at him. “You want the truth? Fine. I’ll give it to you straight up. But brace for impact. I have something to tell you and when I do, you’re going to run so fast an Olympian couldn’t catch you.”
“Try me.”
Damn him. Did he always have to be so confident? She was shaking with fury, with embarrassment, and her jaw ached from grinding her teeth. She glanced around to ensure everything was under control before continuing with her same quiet anger, “I’m not just a sub.”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m a woman.”
He swept his gaze down her body. “A very beautiful one who is wearing far too many clothes.”
“Would you be serious?”
“I am. Deadly.” He took hold of her shoulders.
His touch, the scent of him, the power of him made her dizzy. “I will not be a play toy. I’ve realised I no longer fight against the idea of submission. You were right initially. I did think BDSM was about feathers and playful swats on the ass, maybe a few scarves for bondage. But submission is a certain mindset. It’s about caring enough about a person that his needs become paramount. Pleasing him pleases me.”
His grip tightened painfully, and she winced.
“Have you been playing with anyone else?” he demanded.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She exhaled. Why had he chosen now for a confrontation? Then she reminded herself she’d been too chicken to meet with him when he’d asked. She should have been prepared for this. “It’s none of your business, but for the record, no. I haven’t been with anyone else. I can tell you this, I will not give my submission without a great deal of thought. I do like kink. As you suggested, it’s different from subjugating your own will. My submission needs to be earned by the right man. And the right man is someone I love.” She set her chin. “And someone who loves me in return.”
“Is that all?”
She tried to pull away, and he only tightened his grip. She’d all but confessed her love and he responded with that?
“You’re not the only stubborn one,” he confessed. “I told myself I didn’t want another submissive after Liz. But I learnt a thing or two, especially after I saw you with Evan C. Liz would have surrendered to him, no matter how brutal he was, and she would have enjoyed it. Seeing you at the Den, your strength, resolution, determination, it all taught me something. You stood up for yourself.”
His grip turned more reassuring. And it was everything she could do not to lean into it, into him.
“Of course you should only offer your submission to a man you love, and a man who loves you in return.”
“What are you saying?” she asked, searching his face.
The noise level increased as guests started to arrive.
“We’ll continue this conversation later.”
Damn. Double damn. How was she supposed to get through the next few hours?
As if reading her mind, he said, “You’ve tortured me for six weeks, Chelsea. You can wait another few hours to see me mastered.”
“I—”
“Chelsea, the mayor of the town is here,” Jennifer said, with a quick smile at both of them as an apology. “Can I have Alex for a quick photo op?”
“You’re mine, Chelsea,” he said, before releasing her.
She watched him walk away, and she clutched the clipboard close as if it were a lifeline on a storm-tossed sea.
Then she couldn’t think at all.
She’d planned it so that alcohol would flow before dinner, encouraging people to bid higher on the silent auction items. So far, her strategy seemed to be working.
Master Damien showed up, with Gregorio at his side. As always, the Den’s owner looked dapper and debonair as he sipped a glass of wine, while Gregorio drank from a mug of draught beer and surveyed the room while conveying the idea he was someone you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley. Jenn looked at Gregorio and gave a thumbs-up before turning to answer a question.
“Everything is all set at the Den for the private escape for you and Master Alex,” Master Damien said after she greeted them.
She blinked. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him above the band’s din. “It is? I mean, it is, Sir?”
“Oh.”
Gregorio grinned, but nothing about it softened his features. In fact, he just looked more ferocious. His earring glittered in the light. “Good thing you’re wearing boots with the way you just stepped in it, boss.”
Master Damien sipped from his wine. “Well, yes, perhaps you two should have a private discussion.”
“I think I will, Sir.”
“Drink up, boss.”
She excused herself, but she was waylaid with a half dozen questions. More guests than their wildest estimates had suggested arrived, and so there were decisions needed about extra food and more beverages.
These were her favourite kinds of problems.
She started negotiating with the catering company, and the band’s lead singer interrupted the festivities to say that one of Monahan Capital’s owners had an announcement. Across the room, she looked at Jenn. The younger woman shrugged as if to say this surprised her, as well.
Alex took the stage, commanded it, really.
He thanked everyone for coming, commended You’re The Star on their excellent work, then he called up a girl who’d been helped by the children’s charity the evening was benefiting. He crouched next to the beautiful child, who had long dark hair and big, luminous brown eyes.
Chelsea wasn’t sure she would have had the courage to call the girl on stage, but Alex did, and it had clearly been prearranged. He placed his arm around her shoulder as he held the microphone for her.
She spoke in a halting tone, telling her story and expressing her gratitude. She was as articulate as she was gorgeous. And people’s eyes began to fill with tears. As she ended, Chelsea applauded, and she knew the evening would be a huge success, due in part to Alex’s brilliance.
The band struck up a ballad, and Alex found her.
Words weren’t needed, and none were said, as he led her outside, wrapped her in his arms, and held her as they danced.
“Alex…”
“Master Alexander.”
“Master Alexander—”
“Later,” he interrupted.
He feathered his hands into her hair and drew her against him. She went without protest, laying her head on his chest. For a moment, she wanted to pretend everything was perfect.
An apologetic Jenn interrupted as the last notes faded.
“We need to start announcing the winners of the silent auction.”
She checked her watch. Jenn was a master time manager. A silent auction was a delicate thing. It was critical to collect funds before people left, and they needed a process to claim their prizes. And sometimes, help was needed to carry out the bigger items.
“Go,” Master Alexander told her when she started to make her apologies.
Master Alexander.
Realising she thought of him that way changed something inside her. Alex was a business associate. Master Alexander was a Dom. Her Dom.
She was aware of both Monahan brothers assisting with various aspects of the evening, congratulating attendees on their winning bid, thanking people for coming, encouraging donations in the numerous fishbowls.
At the end of an evening like this, adrenaline generally receded and dropped her on her ass with exhaustion. She would often sleep for twelve hours. But today all she could think about was him
.
Rather than being tired, she seemed to gain energy. It was as if the pent-up hurt of the past six weeks had gathered enough steam to push her to the top of a fourteen-thousand-foot summit.
When the caterers had packed up, easier than usual since there were no leftovers, and the band had loaded their instruments, the landlords showed up to lock the building. After the last goodbyes had been said, Alex appeared by her side. “Jennifer said you rode with her.”
She nodded.
“I made your excuses. You’ll be going home with me.”
“I…”
“Your mouth looks attractive when it’s gaping open like that. Makes me want to put a gag in it.”
She shut her mouth.
“I’ve always particularly enjoyed your intelligence,” he said. He took hold of her elbow and guided her towards the door. “Say goodnight to Gavin and Jennifer,” he instructed her. But he gave her no time to say a word.
Jennifer smiled. Gavin gawked.
“You two concocted this,” Master Alexander said. “You two can finalise the details.”
He paused long enough for her to gather her belongings from the kitchen and then led her to the parking lot. His car seemed to be parked half a mile away, and the midnight Rocky Mountain air nipped at her exposed skin.
As always, he saw that she was in safely and buckled tight before sliding into the driver’s seat.
How predictable was that?
He always intended to be in the driver’s seat, literally and figuratively.
Master Alexander flipped a switch to turn on her seat heater. She did like some of the luxuries he took for granted.
The drive home was filled with discussion about the event. He’d yet to admit it had been a great idea, but he commented on all the things that had gone right.
He ignored her when she gave him her address and instead, he turned into his familiar neighbourhood. “You need to get accustomed to it,” he said.
“What? You bossing me around?” she said, turning to face him as he parked the car in the garage.
“That. And living here.”
She started to protest, but he opened the vehicle door.
“Didn’t you hear me earlier?” she asked when they were inside his house. She’d followed him into the kitchen, and her nerves were stretched like a high wire.
On His Terms Page 17