The Hot Sergeant (Second Chance Military Romance) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #2)

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The Hot Sergeant (Second Chance Military Romance) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #2) Page 27

by Alexa Davis


  "Of course not."

  "What about before the divorce? Did you ever get physical during a fight?"

  "No. This is bullshit. A complete Goddamn fabrication. I never did this to shit to her."

  Eddie leaned forward in his chair and pressed his fingertips together. Speaking in a carefully measured voice, he said, "Tristan, you know you have complete client privilege of confidentiality here. Nothing you tell me will ever be repeated to another living soul. I don't like to bring this up, but you confided in me once that you like to get rough in bedroom. Did things ever get too rough with Janice?"

  "No. She never liked that sort of thing and wouldn't even fucking try it. I have to go to fucking specialized clubs for that sort of thing. Janice fucking knew about them, and that's why I made her sign the non-disclosure agreement. Doesn't this bullshit count as having fucking violated that?"

  Eddie shook his head. "If you didn't do this to her during sex, it's not going to qualify as having violated her sworn oath not to disclose your sexual practices."

  "Well, it's got to be fucking libel or something," I said.

  "Don't worry, we'll take care of everything. She's going to be hit with every lawsuit we can think to slap on her," Eddie promised, and I believed him. He was a good lawyer and for the past decade, he had never let me down.

  Smiling with chagrin, I said, "Great, but maybe we shouldn't use the words hit or slap right now, especially when it comes to Janice." We both laughed at the joke and the air started to feel a little less fucking tense. "In the meantime, maybe I should hold a press conference so I can tell my side of the story and get public opinion back on my side."

  "What will you say? That you like to hit women during sex, but that you didn't hit Janice?" Eddie asked sarcastically, and I totally saw his point.

  "No, you're right. It's better if I don't fucking say anything at all. I hate this bullshit. The fucking media is crucifying me on this shit, and I can't do a fucking thing about it."

  "Just leave that up to me. In the meanwhile, go about your daily routine like nothing has happened. Show the world this doesn't bother you or have you worried in any way. Then, make sure to relax and give yourself plenty of down-time. This isn't the time when you want to get caught losing your temper or appearing violent or out of control."

  I took Eddie's advice to heart, but it was fucking hard. The people I worked with were incompetent idiots and the contestants they picked for this week's show were complete morons. No way could I invest in any of their business ideas, but if I told them all to fuck off, then it would just feed into the public's view that I'm a monster. I could see it in everybody's eyes already through the sideways glances, the not so subtle whispers, and the way everyone gave me a wider birth than usual – especially the women.

  "Is everything all right today, Paulina?" I asked my executive assistant as we were preparing for the show backstage at the production studio.

  "Yes, Mr. Porter. Everything is fine. The last contestant is finishing his pre-show interview, and the editors are already working on the segment from the first contestant. We'll be ready to roll for Friday's air date."

  "No, that's not what I mean. Everyone seems edgy. I want to make sure there's not a problem."

  "No problem, Mr. Porter. What happens in a man's personal life behind closed doors is none of our concern."

  So they were all thinking about that damn news story. Clenching my fists, I said through clenched teeth, "Get everyone together right fucking now. I want to have a staff meeting in five minutes."

  With all my entire staff and crew at the production studio circled around me, I tried to compose my thoughts. I wanted them to know that I had never hurt Janice. That the reason she had signed a non-disclosure agreement was because I liked to go to BDSM clubs, but that just made things sound worse. I needed to protect my kinky secret and Janice knew it. The cunt fucking knew that I wouldn't be able to defend myself about her lies without outing myself. Just thinking about her conniving treachery pissed me off and sent me in a rage. I started ranting about her, cussing her out in front of a crowd of all my employees. When I finally calmed down enough to focus on their faces, all I saw were shocked stares of horror. Great, I'd fucking blown it. Now they were more convinced I was a violent maniac who had beat his wife more than ever. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get away and unwind. I needed to go to Whip. Friday night and the sexy blonde couldn't get here fast enough and I was counting the seconds to when I could get some relief.

  Chapter Five: Olivia

  I was nervous as hell as I walked into Whip for my second week of work, even more so than I had been the first time. When I first started at the kinky underground BDSM club, I hadn't known what to expect. The strange sights and sounds shocked me, and the wild costumes and tortuous-looking props intimidated me. Then, I had met the mysterious handsome stranger who refused to tell me his name and told me only to call him Boss. He'd done things to my body that no one had ever done before, gave me pleasures that had been previously been unknown to me, and awakened in me a passion I never would have known existed without his teachings. I was grateful to him in ways that I could not express.

  I had gone home after that first night and lay in my bed for hours, unable to sleep as I thought about him and the amazing way he had made my body feel. I didn't know who he was, but I knew I wanted more of him. I had looked forward to my Saturday shift the next day with great anticipation, hoping and yearning that he would show me such pleasure again. I had sat naked in the alcove that was to be our permanent room for hours, wondering when he would arrive and fantasizing about what he would do when he did. I even practiced the play dialogues I would act out for him, hoping that he would pleased by my efforts and perhaps even bestow on me an extra reward.

  I had been brutally disappointed when the owner of the club, Mr. Varner entered the alcove instead.

  "Go home, kid. Your one and only client won't be coming in tonight and he's reserved you just for himself, so I can't rent your services out to anyone else. So, take the rest of the night off and come back next Friday night. Maybe he'll show then."

  He handed me my five hundred dollars cash, even though I hadn't done anything, and sent me away. In the days since, and especially the nights, I kept thinking of the Boss and hoping he wouldn't stand me up again. There was so much I wanted to learn from him about the pleasures of BDSM, and so much I was hoping I would get to feel beneath his practiced hands. That was until I found out who he was.

  Discovering the identity of my mystery lover at the mall that day with Clara and Suzanne had been shocking. Who would have thought that I'd have had sex with the Tristan Porter in a kinky BDSM club? Then to discover a few days later the horrible story on the news that he had brutalized his wife so savagely had turned my feelings of lust into ones of terror. I no longer looked forward to sleeping with him with anticipation and longing, but dreaded it with fear and loathing. Mr. Varner had promised me that he wouldn't put me in any danger tonight and told me to come into work. So, I forced my fears aside and came, but now that I was here in the club, all I wanted to do was leave.

  "Ah, Olivia. I'm glad you're here. Alcove nine is all ready for you," Mr. Varner greeted me with a smile. He was acting as if nothing had ever happened and no doubt hoped I had forgotten our phone call the other day and his promise to me, but I wasn't such a pushover as that.

  "Will I be working with him tonight?" I asked pointedly, and we both knew just I meant.

  Mr. Varner pulled me aside into his office and spoke discretely. "I wasn't able to talk to Tristan Porter yet. He keeps his private contact information confidential. I was hoping he would come into the club so I could address your concerns about the news articles and the photos, but he hasn't been in all week."

  "Well, then, I assume I'll be working with other clients today," I said, but Mr. Varner hesitated.

  "Tristan Porter is one of our best paying clients. None of the other girls here have ever had any complaints against him, an
d I just can't believe the allegations against him are true. The source is his ex-wife, and I'm sure she's trying to hurt him with false stories. Wait in alcove nine just like before. If he comes in, I will talk to him and make sure that you are safe. Security cameras and voice recorders monitor the rooms at all times and all you have to do is say the safe word and security will be automatically called. Now, hurry up. Your client usually arrives about this time of night."

  Mr. Varner acted like that settled the matter, but it didn't. "I still don't know if I can work with him. Your assurances are great, but I'm still putting myself at risk."

  "Your only risk is being out of a job." Mr. Varner turned from pleasant to hard edged in the blink of an eye. "If you don't go in that alcove and service Tristan Porter like you've been hired to do, then consider yourself unemployed. I've guaranteed your safety, plus I've got a dozen other girls willing to get paid five hundred bucks a night to receive orgasms from the country's hottest billionaire. So what's it going to be, kid?"

  Man, when he worded it like that, I felt like a fool for even considering turning the job down. I could feel my pulse thudding in my brain as I weighed the pros and cons. I did have an amazing time my one night with Tristan and he'd given me incredible pleasures unlike anything I'd experienced before. He had been scary and he had spanked me, but it hadn't really hurt and what pain I did experience turned into powerful pleasure that enhanced my experience in the end. The biggest motivator of all was the pay. In just six short months, I'd blown through all my savings and hadn't gotten even one modeling job. If I turned down this job, I'd be back to being penniless in less than a week and I'd be in debt and homeless in less than a month. I had to go through with it; there was no real choice.

  "All right. I'll work with him, but the moment I don't feel safe, I'm using my safe word," I said and Mr. Varner grinned with satisfaction.

  "I wouldn't have it any other way, kid." He accompanied me to my alcove and this time, he locked the door when he left, trapping me inside. He claimed it was for my privacy, but I wasn't so sure. Still, I had promised to do my job and so I was going to. I stripped off all my clothes, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and sat on the bed in the corner, waiting nervously and hoping beyond hope that Tristan Porter wouldn't show up.

  Chapter Six: Olivia

  The key rattled in the door and I jumped to my feet. My stomach was tangled into such a knot, I feared I might throw up. Then, Tristan Porter stepped through the doorway and my heart didn't know what to do. Part of me was elated and excited to see this handsome, sexy man who had given me such pleasure, and part of me was overwhelmed by fear at the thought that he might brutalize me like he did his ex-wife. The two opposing emotions played tug-of-war with my heart and mind, and I stood paralyzed, staring at him.

  "Good girl. I see you remembered my instructions on your appearance." His eyes scanned the wax job I'd had performed on my pubic hair and he admired the smooth cleanness of the area. When he reached out to caress my ponytail, however, I jumped back, terrified he meant to strike my face.

  Tristan scowled and sighed. "Craig told me that you've heard the allegations by my ex-wife and were concerned by them. Let me assure you, those photos were faked. If you look carefully, you can see where they've been photo-shopped. I never laid a fucking hand on Janice, although I sure as hell wanted to some days. She never had any interest in playing BDSM games, and if she did, she still wouldn't have looked beat up like that. That's not how the games I play work. You remember the last time we played; did I harm you like that?"

  "No, you didn't," I admitted. Tristan arched an eyebrow at me angrily, and I remembered my training. "I mean, no Boss, you didn't.

  "That's better. You're a very good girl and you take to training so well; but I'm only into consensual playtime. If you'll let me, I'd like to teach you things today that will give you even greater pleasures than the ones you experienced last week. To do that, though, I need to have your trust. What do you say? Will you play with me tonight?"

  Tristan's voice was so soft and soothing, and his gray eyes drew me in like a hypnotic sea. I nodded my head and whispered, "Yes, Boss; how may I please you tonight?"

  "Good." Tristan smiled and when he did, I couldn't help but noticed how sensuous his lips were, how handsome his face looked, and how sexy his voice sounded. Even through all my doubts and trepidation, I was attracted to him in a way that I couldn't deny. Tristan strode to the north wall and beckoned me, "Come here. I'm going to teach you something I think you'll like."

  I walked hesitantly across to him and put my back against the wall like he told me to. Two large metal rings had been bolted to the wall at shoulder height, and I was positioned between them. Tristan said, "Grip the rings and do not let them go without my permission. If you can't obey, then I will bind your wrists to them."

  I did has he had instructed and gripped the rings, feeling like a medieval prisoner shackled to an ancient dungeon wall. Next, he placed a blindfold over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. I startled and lifted my hands to remove it from my eyes, but then I remembered his command and brought my hands back down to grip the metal rings once more.

  "Naughty girl. Don't do that again or I'll have to restrain you," he warned. Then his voice became sultry as he said, "Now, I want you just to let yourself feel what I'm going to do to you. Allow yourself to become immersed in the sensations your body experiences."

  I startled again to feel something soft caressing my naked body. It was ticklish and light, and I squirmed with delight under its wispy touch. It took me a moment to figure out that it was some sort of giant feather.

  Tristan took his time with it, tickling my breasts and brushing the feather over my nipples, running it down my flat stomach, and then caressing my clean-shaven pussy with long, slow strokes. I squirmed pleasurably under the sensation and felt tempted to move, but I kept hanging onto the rings, refusing to break his rules and let go.

  Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the tickling ceased and a new sensation took its place. Something warm and sticky was being drizzled over my breasts and then licked off with Tristan's warm, rough tongue. When he kissed me afterward, he tasted like chocolate, and I knew at once he had covered my tits with hot fudge.

  Then, suddenly, there was a sharp pain of freezing cold as something much different was applied to my nipples. I drew in a sharp breath, startled by it, but somehow managed to keep my grip on the metal rings. As Tristan applied the freezing cold to other parts of my body, tracing a frozen trail around my breasts and down my belly, I slowly came to the realization that it was a cube of ice. Although the freezing cold burned painfully, it was also surprisingly erotic, and I felt a tingling in my pussy that told me I was becoming wet.

  Tristan trailed the cube of ice down my body until he came to my pussy. I cried out loud, gasping for breath at the shock as the cube of frozen ice was applied to the sensitive flesh of my hot, wet clitoris. Seconds later, I felt the delicious pleasure of Tristan's mouth warming my clit back up again as he licked and suckled me there. My gasps turned into moans of pleasure and I writhed my hips, wanting more. The combination of cold and hot and pain and pleasure was astonishingly erotic and I felt myself nearing orgasm.

  "Do you like that, Bitch?" Tristan asked me in that commanding voice I found so sexy. "Do you like being paid for me to toy with you like this? Do you like being bound to the wall, helpless and blindfolded while I have my way with you? Do you like being my hired little cunt?"

  "Yes, Boss," I breathed between moans of pleasure as he alternated between licking my pussy and fingering me there. I was on the edge of orgasm, and we both knew it.

  "Good." He tore the blindfold off my eyes and I blinked into the light, trying to focus. He pulled my hands away from the metal rings I'd been clasping and said gruffly, "Now get down on your hands and knees.” I knelt on the hard wood floor and spread my thighs wide, inviting him to fuck me. He plunged into my pussy from behind, sinking in deeply with one solid thrust. With one hand,
he gripped my ponytail and yanked my head back while he pounded into me with powerful thrusts. With the other hand, he spanked my bare ass with sharp, well-placed slaps of his open palm. They stung painfully, but the sensation was immediately echoed back as the most intense pleasure I had ever felt. My body exploded with rapture as I orgasmed, crying out loudly as I came. Tristan just kept fucking me and spanking my ass and the orgasm kept going and going until I could no longer cry out and my arms and knees could no longer hold me up. Quivering and trembling with rapture, I collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent and completely satisfied. No one had ever given me an orgasm like that, and I was amazed at how incredible it felt.

  When at last I regained my composure, Tristan handed me a glass of water and bade me to drink. He rubbed his hand soothingly over the bruise that now covered my right butt cheek and put a healing salve on it. Then, he caressed my cheek and said softly, "Good girl. You are taking your training well. Did you like the lessons I've taught you so far? Do you want to keep being my employee?"

  "Yes, Boss. How may I please you?" I said submissively.

  Grinning with satisfaction, Tristan sat on the bed and leaned back comfortably. "Do you know how to give a blow job, Bitch?" he asked me.

  "I've only done it once," I confessed, blushing at my own lack of experience. Tristan instructed me on the exact way to please him, caressing my cheek and groaning pleasurably when I did well and yanking my ponytail if I started to do things wrong. I soon got the hang of it and started deep throating him with rapid workings of my mouth, trying to get him to come.

  "Okay, take it easy, Bitch. I don't want to come again until I've had another chance to fuck that pussy," Tristan said, but I didn't stop. Feeling delightfully naughty, I was determined to make him come and worked my mouth even more reverently.

  "I said stop," Tristan growled, but I didn't. Suddenly, he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me off of him. Slamming me against the wall, he pressed my cheek against the cold bricks and said, "How dare you defy me, Bitch? I know what you want. You want me to punish you, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

 

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