For The Sub (Mastered)

by Cartwright, Sierra

  “Yeah. That.” With a yawn, she rolled to face him. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Rest,” he told her, trailing his thumb over one of her eyebrows.

  “The towels go in the laundry basket in the closet. And close the door.”

  “Pets?”

  “They’ll steal everything including my shoes, and I have a couple of fabulous pairs you haven’t seen yet.”

  “The thought of you in a pair of shoes and nothing else is enough to keep me awake all night,” he said as he found the laundry basket, then joined her on the bed. “Do you sleep with your hair in a braid?”

  “Most times, yes. It saves me time in the morning. If you prefer it loose, I don’t mind at all.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Face away from me.”

  She did. He pulled off the band and pulled each of the three strands loose. Then he spread his fingers and used them as a comb. He’d never played with a woman’s hair before, other than to hold it during sex or smooth it while giving a hug. Reluctant to let her go, he massaged her head.

  “I’ll give you all night to finish doing that, Sir.”

  He continued for a few moments, enjoying the quiet and her gentle sounds. Niles hadn’t realised how much he’d missed having a woman in his bed.

  Her breathing evened out, and he knew she’d fallen asleep.

  Brandy, he quickly learnt, wasn’t easy to disturb. He pulled up a blanket and tucked it around her without her seeming to be aware. After turning off the light, he tugged her against him.

  * * * *

  When dawn brightened the sky the next morning, she was still cocooned next to his body. For a few minutes, he stayed where he was, enjoying the peace, the quiet solitude of the mountain morning and having a sexy sub snuggled next to him, with her blonde hair spilling across the dark blue pillow in an inviting contrast. He considered fisting her hair and pulling back her head and kissing her long and deep. That would be a hell of a way to start a Sunday. Not just this Sunday, any Sunday.

  That thought startled him.

  He was thinking beyond today. This was a first for him. In business, he was always doing projections and forecasts, but he’d shut off his personal life since Eleanor’s funeral on that grey, snowy morning three years ago.

  A dog’s nails clicked against the hardwood floor.

  Not wanting to disturb Brandy, Niles climbed out of bed, grabbed his jeans then headed down the hallway. Brandy didn’t move.

  In the kitchen, Dana stretched her long legs in front of her and yawned wide enough to swallow a small country.

  Whisper was nowhere in sight.

  MW dashed out of the doggie door.

  Because he’d spent so much time in the kitchen last night, it didn’t take long to locate the bag of coffee or the filters. Within a minute, strong brew was hissing and spitting into the carafe. He watched it as if that would hurry the maker along.

  A seeming eternity later, he poured himself a cup before going outside.

  Dana yawned and traipsed after him. MW dashed over to nip at his toes, and Niles commanded, “Sit.”

  The dog bared his teeth but sat.

  He took a seat to watch the remnants of the sunrise and both dogs wandered around the yard. Dana cocked her head and looked at a deer. MW chased it off, nipping at its hooves. “You’re a little terror, aren’t you?”

  Dana curled up at his feet. Once the mule-tailed deer was out of sight, MW returned. Niles wasn’t certain a dog could look smug, but this one did.

  A few minutes later, he heard the back door close. He turned to see Brandy, hair everywhere, a cup of coffee in hand. She’d dressed in a blue cowl neck T-shirt and black yoga pants, so tight and clingy she could have been poured into them. Her nipples were beaded. Like him, her feet were bare.

  “Mind if I join you?” she asked. “Or would you prefer some alone time?”

  “I’ve been offering the dogs treats if they’d be loud enough to wake you up.”

  She smiled.

  He hooked his foot on a nearby chair and dragged it closer to him. Then when she went to sit, he changed his mind. He captured her body and pulled her onto his lap.

  With a laugh, she moved her cup aside so that her drink sloshed on the ground rather than on either of them.

  “Morning, sub.”

  “Fabulous good morning to you, Sir.” She looped one arm around him and nuzzled his neck.

  Her hair tickled his chest. And her body curled alluringly against his.

  “Thank you for taking care of the dogs and for letting me sleep those few extra minutes…” She re-situated herself so she was more comfortable. “Oh, and for brewing coffee. You could be the perfect Dom.”

  “Anything for such a delectable sub.”

  “Can I make it up to you?”

  Since his cock was already thickening he said, “I may have an idea or two.”

  “I was hoping you did.”

  He reached down and picked up his cooled cup of coffee.

  “Shall I go sit over there?”

  “Not a chance.”

  For a long time, neither of them said anything, content to watch the pets and the occasional wary deer.

  “Go with me to a silent auction Friday night?”

  “I beg your pardon, Sir?”

  “I need a gorgeous date. Dinner, dancing. At the Moline downtown.” Until the words came out of his mouth, he’d had no real intention of attending the event. His aunt, Mame, chaired the event every year. He and Eleanor had been regulars, but since her death, he’d begged off.

  This year, his aunt had informed him she’d reached the end of her patience. If he didn’t show up of his own free will, she would come to his house and drag him into her limo by his ear. He didn’t underestimate the steamroller that was Mame. “You’d be doing me a huge favour.” He smoothed Brandy’s hair back from her face so he could see her expression.

  “The Moline?” she repeated. The hotel was one of Denver’s newest boutique hotels, fancy, upscale, with only a couple of dozen rooms, all costing four figures for a one-night stay. It was located on the Sixteenth Street Mall, so many of the rooms overlooked one of the most fun, hippest, freakiest areas of town. She loved the fact that, on any given night, it was possible to see a wide range of humanity, from homeless people and up-and-coming buskers, to sports stars, executives and politicians. Since there were some excellent restaurants along the street, almost anyone who stayed in downtown Denver could be seen passing by.

  “I’m confused, Sir. Do you want me to attend as your submissive?”

  “Good God, no. As my companion.”

  “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Yes is the perfect answer.”

  She pursed her lips. “Maybe I don’t know how to behave in public.”

  “Try again.”

  “Maybe you don’t want me to get to know your friends. How will I answer questions about how we know each other, where we met, what I do for a living?”

  With the mutinous set of her jaw and the way she worried a strand of hair, he read her anxiety. Coming from someone so self-assured, the reaction shocked him. “There will be no questions.”

  “It’s not that easy, Sir.”

  “It is,” he countered.

  “Maybe for someone who lives life like you do,” she countered.

  He went still. She was walking a tightrope, between expressing her fears and pissing him off. Keeping his flash of frustration under control, he tightly asked, “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Look, Sir, I didn’t mean to offend you. We don’t move in the same social circles. I love to scene with you, and I appreciate your coming to my barbecue, but a fundraiser at the Moline isn’t my thing.”

  “Why not? Great food and expensive champagne, along with an excellent dancing companion.”

  Even that didn’t elicit a smile from her.

  “Most of it will be filled with boring and insipid conversation.”

/>   “Which is exactly why I need you to go with me.”

  “I don’t do pretentious anymore, Sir. Not that I ever did it well.” She slid from his lap and went to her own chair, putting some distance between them.

  He chose his words with great care. “That sounds a bit defensive.”

  “Does it? Maybe it is.”

  Like she had earlier, she looped some strands of hair around a finger.

  “I told you I moved up here about two years ago. It was after Reyes Northrup and I broke up.”

  He whistled. Reyes’ father had made money—lots of it—in oil a long time ago. His trophy wife and kids lived high off the profits.

  “His mother never pretended to like me.”

  “Shawndra is a social climber and a bitch,” he said.

  “You know her?”

  “Well enough to know you can’t take her personally.”

  “I don’t.” Brandy gave him a ghost of a smile. “She also cares about her kids.”

  He wondered how many times she’d repeated those words to herself. “So, she’s a saint.”

  “No. But she has always done what she thought was best for her family. I can’t fault her for that. Reyes is a sweet guy with a big heart.”

  “Who can’t stand up to his mommy and has a hell of a drug problem.”

  “That’s a bit harsh.”

  “It’s the truth,” he countered. He had a lot of respect for people who earned their way in life, but none at all for guys who lived off their trust funds.

  “I thought I could save him. Tried to, time and again. But when everything is magnified under the spotlight of the tabloid press, it makes it that much harder. That last night…”

  “The Great Disaster?”

  “You remembered.”

  “I’ve told you. I remember everything about you.”

  Brandy stood and began to pace. MW jumped up and nipped at her toes.

  “Sit,” he told the pest.

  The dog plopped down, though he continued to move his head, tracking her feet.

  Patience wasn’t Niles’ normal forte, but for Brandy, he’d try.

  “I arrived home from work around midnight and found Reyes unconscious in the shower. I called an ambulance, and I held his hand all the way to the hospital. His mother met us in the emergency room. She made it clear that she blamed me and my lifestyle for his problems.”

  “Lifestyle?”

  “She didn’t know I was a submissive or that Reyes liked to tie up women.”

  “So…”

  “I was working at a sports bar to help pay for college.”

  “And the alcohol was a bad influence?”

  “Waiting tables would have been scandalous enough, but it’s the type of place where the women wear white button-down shirts and ridiculously short kilts.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  “Pervert,” she said.

  “Red-blooded male,” he corrected.

  She gave him a wan smile and shook her head. But thankfully, the pain he’d witnessed on her face had been wiped away.

  “He was there for a bachelor party. He was flirting with me. At the end of the night, his friends decided to go to Central City to play some craps, but he said he was too drunk to go with them. So I took him home—to my place. It wasn’t until much later that I realised he’d been doing something stronger than shots. Sorry. Am I boring you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I can—”

  “Go on,” he told her in the no-nonsense tone that he reserved for business negotiations.

  “The next day we went to pick up his car. He was apologetic, wanted to thank me and make it up to me, so he took me to dinner. Despite the differences in our backgrounds, I convinced myself that we could make it work, that my love would help him get better, see how much brighter life could be. Before long, we fell into a pattern. He’d get arrested or messed up, and I’d rescue him. He’d be remorseful and promise never to do it again.”

  “But he always did,” Niles surmised.

  She took a seat, perching on the edge. “He took me to a family dinner, and when his mom asked what I did for a living, I told her.” She smiled. “It was like a scene from a movie. His younger sister knew of the place. His mother put down her fork and pushed away her plate. His dad raised his eyebrows and said he’d been there once or twice. She told me to my face that I wasn’t good enough for her son. And she asked him why he insisted on dating a trollop. To make the story shorter, we didn’t stay for dessert.”

  “That was the night of the overdose?”

  “No. We continued to see each other after that, but we avoided his family, something else she blamed me for—taking away her son.”

  “She wasn’t good at accepting reality,” Niles observed.

  “Anyway, in the emergency room, she called security and had me escorted out. She was next of kin.” Brandy shrugged. “There was nothing I could do. I telephoned for updates, but she’d forbidden the nurses to answer my questions. When he called me the next day, he was, as always, sorry for what had happened, but said he was tired of fighting with his mother and he hoped I understood.”

  Even though she had the distance of years, he still saw confusion in her eyes.

  “Last I heard through mutual friends, he’s headed to rehab on the West Coast before he marries a hotel heiress.”

  “Not everyone is like the Northrups,” he said.

  “Of course not. You’re not. Neither is Master Damien.”

  “If you’ll go with me, I promise to stay by your side.”

  “That’s not a factor for me. I can take care of myself, Sir. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

  “And doing a great job of it. I know I’m being selfish by asking you to go with me, but with you there, I might enjoy the function. And…” He decided to use every tactic in his arsenal. “Since you like taking care of others, you can tell yourself you’re doing a friend a favour. In fact, at the grocery store, you told me you’d owe me a favour if I manned the barbecue.”

  She scowled.

  “Pay up,” he countered. “Unless you want to earn a reputation as someone who reneges on her word?”

  “That’s unfair, Sir.”

  “I play to win. You already know that.” He smiled in what he hoped was a charming way. “And I want you to go with me.”

  “Do any rules apply to you, Sir?”

  “None.”

  She exhaled.

  “At least think about it.”

  “Sir…”

  “Please?”

  Brandy closed her eyes. “You’re relentless.”

  “When I want something, I get it.”

  “I haven’t agreed to go with you.”

  “You will. I’ll even buy you breakfast as a way to sweeten the deal.”

  “What?”

  “John told me his pecan waffles have been rated amongst the top in the state.”

  “It’s probably not what you’re expecting. It’s more of a diner than a restaurant. I can make us some eggs here.”

  “Are you calling me a snob again, Brandy? You might want to watch your words. You’re starting to annoy me.”

  “I—”

  “Do you have fishnet stockings?”

  “I do. But if I wear them, my legs will get cold.”

  At least she was no longer arguing about going out to eat. “Did I ask if you’d be comfortable?”

  She shifted then lowered her eyes. “No, Sir.”

  “You’ve got five minutes to get ready to go.” When she didn’t immediately move, he said, “That’s it. Get your clothes off and lie across my lap.”

  “What?”

  He levelled his gaze on her. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

  Slowly she stood.

  She stripped off her top and dropped it on the chair behind her.

  “Bra,” he said. Breath constricted in his throat. This woman. He wondered what the hell was wrong with him. The more he had her, the more he w
anted. This kind of attraction had never happened for him before. He felt as if he’d combust if he didn’t touch her, taste her, possess her.

  She unclasped the lingerie and shrugged from it. The cool air puckered her nipples. He was mesmerised. “I think we should have a bonfire where we burn all your brassieres.”

  “If you say so, Sir.”

  A sensual undertone made her voice husky and it laced straight through him.

  She removed the yoga pants with the finesse of an exotic dancer.

  “Torture,” he said.

  It took an agonising amount of time for her to finish undressing.

  “Let me look at you,” he said.

  Goosebumps had formed on her flesh. Despite that, she widened her stance and placed her hands behind her neck then arched her back to thrust out her breasts.

  “You’re sensational,” he told her. He made a circle with his forefinger, and she complied with the unspoken order, turning her back towards him.

  Perfectly reading his mind, she grabbed her ankles. Her rear bore no traces of their night together. “Come to me.”

  She rose then pivoted before sauntering towards him in a purposeful and provocative way.

  Instead of casting her gaze down, she met his eyes.

  “Do you have any idea how much power you hold over me?” As he asked the question, he realised even he had no idea.

  Brandy draped herself across his lap and adjusted herself, each time tilting up her ass higher and higher. No doubt she was hoping to drive him crazy. It was working.

  “Enough,” he snapped, the word sounding like a growl.

  Dana made an odd sound and tilted her head. MW dashed over to see what was going on. Even Whisper slinked onto the patio from beneath a bush.

  “Go away,” she told the animals.

  None of them obeyed her.

  “Now,” he snapped.

  They all moved back.

  “You’re going to have to share your tricks with me,” she said.

  “Just glad it works on you as well as them,” he replied.

  He rubbed her butt cheeks until she made sounds of pleasure.

  “Oh, Sir.”

  Mindful of the chill in the air, he brought his hand down across her ass half a dozen times in quick succession. She remained in place, and her sounds became soft whimpers. She adjusted herself in order to rub against his thigh. “Getting turned on?”