For The Sub (Mastered)

by Cartwright, Sierra

  He would have expected that. “Prudent in this day and age.”

  “No arrest records that I could find.”

  “Buried deep,” he teased. “Records sealed.”

  “I’m good enough that I would have found something,” she responded with appealing confidence. “I was impressed. You’re involved with a number of different businesses.”

  “And some other things that could be added, or maybe a new one created.”

  “Your website doesn’t appear to have been updated in the past few years. Your copyright is out of date and your SEO could use some fine tuning. You’ve got a few broken links. And I’m boring you.”

  “Not at all.” In fact, the animation in her tone was infectious.

  “I was going to give you some ideas to take to your web people. Sorry if I overstepped any bounds. Occupational hazard.”

  “Once you finish, I’ll be interested in taking a look.” He put down the folder, impressed by her resourcefulness and fresh eye. More and more, this woman appealed to him.

  As he turned to leave the room, he noticed the wall behind her was decorated with pictures of dogs and cats. One had a photo of her with an older gentleman. They stood with their backs to a mountain, and they were each holding a trout. “Your father?”

  She nodded. “Two summers ago near Shadow Mountain Lake.”

  “There’s a strong resemblance.”

  “Especially the nose,” she said, wrinkling hers.

  “Nothing wrong with your nose.”

  “I’m delighted that you’re blinded by lust, Sir.”

  He smacked her ass when she walked past him.

  She yelped.

  “One of my favourite sounds,” he said.

  Brandy continued the tour. “There’s only one bathroom. But since it’s just me, I manage fine.”

  It, too, fit the cottage theme with blue wainscoting and a claw-foot tub. A showerhead stuck out from the wall at a height designed for Brandy, rather than a man. “That’s deep enough for two people.”

  “Is that a suggestion?”

  “It could be.”

  A stackable washer and dryer stood in the far corner. Though small, the house had all the necessities.

  “The other room is mine,” she said.

  And the door was closed. “Do you mind me seeing it?”

  “I’m sure it’s not your style.” She shrugged. “But you probably intend to see it at some point.”

  “Only with your permission. But yes, I want to be in your bedroom.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” She opened the door. “This, really, is why I bought this house.”

  “I would have, too.” While the room wasn’t large, its French doors made up for it. They opened onto a concrete patio that had a clay chimenea, two chairs and a small table. “You can watch the sunrise and have a cup of coffee?”

  “I do, almost every day. In the summer, it can be hard to come back inside.”

  Her bed had at least nine pillows. Several were purple. The comforter was white. A white chaise longue sat at an angle perpendicular to the wall. A reading lamp drooped over the area, and a small table was next to it, a couple of books and an electronic reader stacked on the top. A fluffy pink throw was ultra-feminine, but fitting. A vase filled with wildflowers stood on top of a high dresser. The queen-size bed had a wooden headboard with lots of potential. “What’s not to like about this room?”

  “Some men find it threatens their masculinity.”

  “Some men?” he repeated, a sudden possessive urge stabbing at him.

  “My dad and brother,” she clarified right away. With a steady gaze, she met his eyes and added, “I don’t have a lot of men in my bedroom, Sir, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Good answer. He knew she was well within her rights to tell him to mind his own business or refuse to give him information. He appreciated that she hadn’t made either of those choices. “Any man who is concerned by your décor hasn’t thought about fucking you over the back of that chaise or tying your hair to the headboard.”

  She rolled the wine glass between her palms. “Is that what you’re thinking?”

  “That and propping those pillows beneath your stomach so that I can get your ass high enough to stuff my cock in it.”

  She stopped rolling the glass. “In that case, I won’t change a single thing, Sir.”

  “The image will be that much hotter with my handprints already on your butt cheeks.”

  “All of a sudden, I’m thinking of cancelling the party.”

  “That’s two of us.”

  She dropped her bra in a dresser drawer and closed it before he could get a proper look at all her lingerie.

  “For later, Sir,” she promised.

  He followed her back to the kitchen and topped off her glass. He hadn’t taken a sip from his. “How will you be introducing me tonight?”

  “As Niles, an acquaintance I’ve known for a long time. I saw you at the grocery store and invited you.”

  “You took pity on a starving man,” he added. “I’m another one of your strays.”

  She swept her gaze up his sexy body. “Do you think anyone will believe you’re a stray?”

  Outside, he heard a vehicle. So, too, did the dogs. Niles was almost ploughed over as they dashed towards the door.

  “Party time,” she said. She put down her glass and rubbed her ass. “Good thing I have on comfortable shoes, since I won’t be able to sit down tonight.”

  “Perfect.”

  She flashed him a quick scowl before calling back the dogs and opening the door for the first of her visitors.

  Over the next twenty minutes, at least a dozen people arrived, and no one asked about his relationship with Brandy. Though they seemed to all know one another, they included him in conversations and jokes. Beer flowed freely, and snacks of crudités and nuts vanished. A tall, thin woman stood near a table and tossed a candy-coated chocolate in her mouth every thirty seconds. Her coordination and timing were impressive.

  The noise level steadily increased. Some guests moved into the living room, braver ones went outside with the beer and soft drinks, but most stayed in the kitchen.

  He enjoyed watching her interact, moving from conversation to conversation with ease, calling out answers to questions from across the room, and opening beer bottles for others without being asked. She even glanced his direction a few times to make sure he was holding his own. Here or at the Den, Brandy was the perfect hostess. “It appears I should get the grill going,” he said when she poured more candy into the dish.

  “Good plan. Do you want matches or flamethrower, Sir?”

  “Flamethrower,” he said.

  “Of course, Sir. It’s in there.” She pointed towards a drawer then grabbed the hamburgers from the refrigerator. “The cooking utensils and seasonings are already outside.”

  “You did a lot of preparation ahead of time.”

  “I wanted to have some free time in case you arrived early.”

  “I’m glad you did.” Since there were other people around, he didn’t continue the conversation. He cracked his knuckles then grabbed the long, thin lighter. “Show me the way.”

  He followed her through the carport and into the backyard.

  The evening air was brisk. With the shorter days, it wouldn’t be long before dusk descended.

  She had set up a small table next to the grill, and she put the platter on top of it.

  “Looks as if you thought of everything,” he said, eyeing the extra plates, assorted spices and a long-handled spatula.

  Brandy folded her arms across her chest as he lit the grill.

  “What? Didn’t think I was capable?” he asked.

  “I just wanted to watch you work.”

  “Your nipples are hard.”

  “It’s not just from the cold,” she assured him.

  “Anticipation?”

  “And from remembering the night at the Den.”

  “I suppose we
can’t send everyone home until after we feed them?”

  “No, Sir, we can’t. But I’ll be looking forward to the end of the evening.” She excused herself, saying she needed to set out the garnishes and sliced cheese.

  He watched her go. Within a few minutes, he started cooking the first burgers. It wasn’t long before one of her male friends joined him.

  “Need a hand?”

  “John, isn’t it?” Niles asked the tall, lanky man.

  The man nodded and offered a beer.

  “You’re a friend for life,” Niles said by way of thanks as he accepted the bottle of microbrew.

  “So how did you meet Brandy?”

  Niles answered with a question of his own, “Who are you to her?”

  “Husband of her best friend.” He shrugged.

  “You drew the short straw? You had to be the one to check me out, see who I am, what my intentions are.”

  “Margot is curious. Brandy hasn’t brought anyone to a party in a couple of years. And since she didn’t say anything in advance, Margot’s freaking out a bit. Those two share everything.”

  “I’m not a serial killer.” Niles took a drink of the beer.

  “So what do you do for a living?”

  Niles looked at the man. He wondered if John had watched any of his videos, but then, what would it say about the man if he came right out and asked? Though he had a few businesses, Niles decided to find out how much John knew. “I own a video production company.”

  “Anything I might have seen?”

  “You tell me.” When John remained silent, but glanced away, Niles continued, “Does your wife know what you watch online?”

  “Look, man…”

  “Brandy is safe with me,” he said.

  Just then, she joined them. “How’s it going?” She stopped and looked between the two of them.

  Apparently sensing the tension, she levelled a look at John and asked, “Is Margot making you do her dirty work?”

  Niles put down his drink and draped his arm across Brandy’s shoulders, drawing her in close. She laid her head against his chest. It seemed natural, as if they’d done it a hundred times.

  She felt warm and smelt of promise.

  “Don’t shoot the messenger,” John pleaded.

  “Not to worry,” she said. “Master Niles only beats people who ask him nicely.”

  “Brandy,” Niles warned, but he couldn’t keep the mirth out of his tone. This tiny spitfire was ruffled on his behalf.

  “I’m sorry, Sir, but I won’t have you interrogated when you’re a guest in my home.”

  He looked at her with a wry smile. She charmed him completely. “I’m the dragon, remember? I can take care of myself, Princess.”

  “I met him at a BDSM club,” she told John, as if Niles hadn’t spoken. “I’ve known him for a number of years,” she added. “And this is not the first time he’s defended my honour.”

  “You do realise that he—”

  “For Christ’s sake, John, yes. Please give me some credit.”

  Niles tightened his hold on her.

  But that didn’t slow her down. She said to John, “I’m curious how you know who he is.” Then she gentled her voice. “Your job here is done, John,” she continued. “I love you and Margot both, and I appreciate that you care. I’m going to tell Margot to come spend time with Master Niles and form her own opinion.”

  John raised his hands, defeated.

  “I think the hamburgers are burning,” she told them before squirming from Niles’ grip and heading back inside.

  “No hard feelings,” John said.

  “She’s lucky to have friends like you,” Niles responded.

  John grabbed a plate and Niles transferred the meat onto it.

  The man carried it inside while Niles put on the next batch.

  Glad for a little solitude, he stood in front of the grill, drinking the last of his beer, watching the first tendrils of the orange sunset. He understood the appeal of this place for her. The views were spectacular.

  The cabin he was staying at contained no personal effects. It had been decorated to appeal to hunters and fishermen, but with enough nicer touches that women didn’t feel out of place. In contrast, she’d created a home. Dog toys were strewn about. And she had a greenhouse, with huge plants inside. He’d be hard-pressed to identify any of them, but he surmised it took a certain amount of attention to grow them that big. It was another outward sign of her nurturing personality.

  Events like this, especially answering questions from nosy friends, wasn’t his typical choice for an evening. Surprisingly, he was enjoying it.

  Because he was still cooking, Brandy brought him a fresh beer along with a plate filled with potato salad, carrots, fruit and one of the charred burgers. He was grateful no one had criticised his barbecuing skills—at least not to his face.

  The dogs spent a significant amount of time sitting near him—hoping to scavenge bits of meat, he was sure. He glanced around, looking for Brandy before splitting an overdone patty in half and feeding it to the animals.

  “That’s one way to stop MW from biting your feet,” John observed, bringing out another beer for Niles. “I was sent to light the chimenea. Penance for pissing off both women.”

  “Tough times,” Niles agreed.

  “I’m curious. What’s it like being around so many beautiful women all the time?”

  He didn’t have to think about his answer. “Unrewarding. Meaningless.”

  “Seriously, man?”

  “Be grateful for what you have.”

  “Sounds as if you’re part philosopher.”

  Niles took a drink of beer. “Just wish I had appreciated things more when I had the chance.”

  John grabbed the flamethrower and set about lighting the small chimenea fire while Niles, his duties over, turned off the grill.

  The warmth and glow drew a small crowd, and he was soon engaged in conversations with people who had a much different approach to life than he did. He chatted with a ski instructor who worked only a few months a year, a fly fishing guide and a stay-at-home father. Margot and John ran a small breakfast restaurant in Grand Lake, so they were amongst the first to leave, but Margot narrowed her gaze at Niles in a silent reminder that she wasn’t certain about his intentions.

  Now, as Brandy said goodbye to the last of her guests, he made sure the fire was out before going inside and tackling the arduous task of loading the dishwasher. Even when it was full, the counters and table top were still messy. The contrast between her kitchen and his pristine one startled him. It made him see how empty and solitary his life had become since he’d lost Eleanor.

  Back then, he and his wife had enjoyed a whirlwind social life. She’d been a prominent attorney, he’d been an investment broker, and they’d been aware of the need to network their way to success.

  When they had entertained, Eleanor had hired caterers. He’d never had to deal with an aftermath like this.

  “Did I scare you off?” she asked, coming back inside. She flipped the switch to turn off the outdoor lights.

  “Despite the gnawing terror, I’m still here,” he said.

  “That’s right. After all, you are a big, bad, brave Dom. You didn’t need to pitch in. But thank you. I’ll handle the rest of the clean-up in the morning.” She propped her hips against a cupboard and looked at him.

  Even though there’d been plenty of noise and mayhem with the pets and the party, he was amazed by how relaxed he felt.

  “I hope you enjoyed it, at least a little. You did great on the burgers.”

  “They were burnt.”

  “Which is better than raw,” she pointed out.

  “Are you always an optimist?”

  “Guilty.”

  “And yeah. I did enjoy myself.” He took the last sip from his beer. “Even though you didn’t need me.”

  “Of course I needed you, Sir.”

  “I think John could have handled it. He owns a restaurant.”<
br />
  She had the good grace to flush a bit. “I like to give him the night off if he comes here. The guy who does most of the cooking really is out of town.”

  “Fair enough.” He believed her. She would think about her friends and how they deserved the chance to rest. It endeared her to him even more. “Where’s the soap?”

  “Why?”

  “So we can wash the rest of these dishes.”

  “Really, Sir. Thank you, but you’ve helped enough.”

  Her tone was abrupt, and a scowl was wedged between her eyebrows. Keeping his tone light, he asked, “Do you refuse everyone’s help?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then it’s me.”

  “It’s not…” She sucked in a breath. “Well, yes, it is you. You’re a Dom.”

  “Doms can’t wash dishes? They need to put up their feet and have a cocktail while you do all the housework and come to bed exhausted? For good measure you could be scolded for not moving faster and rubbing my feet?”

  “Sounds ridiculous when you say it like that.”

  “It is ridiculous,” he agreed. “I want to get you naked.”

  “Stop.” Her scowl deepened.

  “I’ve made you uncomfortable. Tell me why.”

  When she remained silent, he added, “I’ve somehow blundered into an emotional limit, and I’d like to understand it.” He wasn’t sure what in the hell had happened in the last few minutes, but God damn if he’d let it go.

  “I think it means something if you help me with chores.”

  “It only has the meaning you give it. Can you accept help from a friend?”

  She sighed. “People in a relationship help each other with dishes.”

  “Ah. So if I help you, I have to move in? Or maybe I drag you to Denver and force you to make my dinner?”

  She laughed, scattering the tension. “You’re being outrageous.”

  “Am I?” He looped his arms around her waist and drew her close. “I hear nervousness in your voice, but it’s okay for us to relax around each other. And to be honest, I’d prefer to deal with this tonight instead of facing it in the morning before I’ve had my coffee.”

  “So that means you’re spending the night?”

  Her words had a hesitation, a brief skip that seemed at odds with the confident persona he’d seen from her so far. He was seeing the real Brandy, rather than the personality she presented in public. He folded his arms across his chest. “I apologise. I shouldn’t be presumptuous. I’d like to, but I’ll leave the choice to you,” he said. His body responded to hers the way it did every time they stood close. He’d be a gentleman if she wanted him to be, but his cock was voting in favour of her asking him to stay.