Chapter Nine
The afternoon sun blazed overhead as Gen shifted in her beach chair. Sweat dripped down between her shoulder blades, making the calm waters of the Gulf look more inviting by the minute.
“It’s too bloody hot,” Ivy complained. “Honestly, you Yanks must have water in your veins.”
Gen kicked sand at Ivy’s feet. “If you can’t handle it then take your limey ass back across the pond.”
A very tan, very fit and very hot young guy glided by them on a skimboard. He flashed them a smile that was all dimples.
“And miss this view? Not a chance. You have everything sorted for your big holiday?”
“I guess.”
“Are you sure you’ve changed your mind about having me look in on your mum?”
“I’m positive.”
“That’s a big step for you.”
“I know, but she’s an adult and perfectly capable of taking care of herself. I can’t keep enabling her. We had a long talk. Well, I did most of the talking. She sneered and laid on the guilt extra thick in typical Emily fashion.”
“Guilt is a talent mums must develop when we’re in the womb. So what did you talk about?”
“I told her I was only going to stop by once in a while and strictly to visit. She’s going to have to be responsible for her own housekeeping and bills until she decides to get help. I even brought her some brochures for recovery houses in the area.”
“I’m sure that went well.”
“About as well as I expected—lots of denial and another heaping round of guilt. But…I can’t lie to myself about it anymore. It doesn’t help her and it doesn’t help me. She’s an addict. There’s just no getting around it.”
Ivy reached over and gave her arm a squeeze. “I’m proud of you, and I’m not saying that to be patronizing.”
“I just hope I’m doing the right thing.”
“You are. Now try not to worry about it or you’ll drive yourself mad. You should focus on all the beautiful men you’ll see in South Beach the day after tomorrow instead,” Ivy said, standing. “Ready for a swim?”
“Way ahead of you.” There was only one beautiful man Gen would be focused on. She slipped on her board shorts then raced to the water and plunged in. The instant cooling effect was exactly what she needed.
Ivy’s gaze narrowed as she joined her. “Since when do you wear trousers in the water?”
Gen shrugged. Leave it to Ivy to notice that little detail. The reason was simple. Her bikini bottom did little to hide the bruises decorating her ass. Bruises no one could see while her butt was parked in a chair. Prancing through the sand in a two-piece bathing suit was another story. How did one explain cane marks? She didn’t mind Ivy seeing them. Advertising her bedroom activities to the rest of Madeira Beach was not a good idea. She could only imagine what the other beach-goers would think.
“Ah, you have bruises. I must say, I’m a bit jealous. Are you ever going to give me the details about your sordid affair with our distinguished boss? I’m starting to think you don’t trust me.”
A pang of guilt tightened Gen’s chest. She bobbed in the gentle swells, allowing the motion to lull her rising anxiety. She’d withheld the context of her relationship from Ivy because the truth was too hard to face. “I trust you.”
“Go on then, spit it out. What’s going on with you two?”
Gen had no idea how to explain it to Ivy. She had a hard enough time explaining it to herself. Somewhere along the way the carefully drawn lines of her arrangement with Brian had blurred. A few weeks had passed since the first night she’d stayed over at his place. More often than not, her bed remained cold and untouched in favor of a less lonely, more luxurious one. All it took was one little text and she would end up at his house so he could have his perverted way with her. Usually that meant intricately tying her up, spanking her ass scarlet for an insolent look or sarcastic tone then fucking her into complete oblivion. All in all, not a bad arrangement.
Sleeping over was supposed to be merely a convenience. Her secret was that it had become the thing she cherished most about their time together. Not that she didn’t love the rest of it, she did. But when she fell asleep with his arms wrapped around her, she could almost pretend he loved her too.
“I don’t need to remind you that you can’t tell anyone about this, do I?”
Ivy glared at her.
“Okay, okay. I haven’t signed a contract or anything. We did negotiate an agreement though.”
“Go on.”
“The sex is… Well, great would be an understatement.”
“That good?”
Gen grinned.
“I knew it. Wait a minute. I thought you said he was a jerk?”
Gen rolled her eyes. “I only said that because he’s strict. He doesn’t let me get away with anything. Oh and he’s arrogant, which really gets under my skin sometimes. Needless to say, my mouth gets me in trouble a lot.”
Ivy laughed. “I believe it.”
“It’s just kink though. He doesn’t want anything beyond that.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Gen blanked her face as best she could. “I’m fine with it.”
“Now, that bit? I don’t believe.”
“I’m perfectly capable of having a no-strings relationship and being happy with it. Thank you very much.”
Ivy looked doubtful. “I’m starving. I say we head back to your flat and have a sandwich or two. We can finish our little chat then.” That meant Ivy was about to give her an earful of something she probably didn’t want to hear. Great.
“Cheese and pickle?” Gen asked hopefully.
“Have you known me to make anything else?”
“Lead the way.”
They gathered their belongings and went back to her apartment. The cool air-conditioning was a welcome relief. Gen tossed her bag on the couch, went straight for the fridge and grabbed a can of diet cola. She might need something stronger for this conversation, but soda would have to do.
“You want me to put the kettle on?” Gen asked.
“It’s too hot for tea and besides, I want nothing to do with that sad little box of expired Earl Grey you have in your cupboard.”
“Expired?” Gen checked the label. Damn, the date was more than a year past its expiration. She guiltily flashed to the cup she’d served to Chris all those weeks ago. He hadn’t seemed to notice or maybe he’d just been too polite to say anything. She chucked the box in the trash. She’d never been much of a tea drinker anyway.
“I’ll just have what you’re having.”
Gen grabbed another soda from the fridge and set it down on the table. Ivy went to work slicing thick rectangles of sharp cheddar cheese then smearing chunky brown pickle onto pieces of crusty bread. Gen had no idea why it was called pickle in the UK. It didn’t even remotely resemble what she considered a pickle. It was closer to a funky-smelling, brown chutney. Damn good on cheese sandwiches though. After Ivy had finished slapping lunch together, she set the plates on the table and took a seat across from Gen.
“You’re so good to me.” Gen took a big, satisfying bite. Weird flavors assaulted her mouth. A bit of sweetness, the sharp tang of vinegar and a few things she couldn’t place—all blended with the creaminess of good cheddar cheese and fresh bread. Somehow it worked. Ivy was always forcing strange British foods on her but this was one she actually happened to like.
“Flattery won’t get you out of this conversation. So tell me, what makes you think you’ll be happy simply being Brian’s submissive?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I know you, or are you forgetting that?”
Gen sighed and popped the top on her can of diet soda. “I’m fine with it. Really. Emotions make things messy and complicated. I’m not much of a romantic anyway. It’s kind of nice knowing exactly where I stand with him. There’s no stress. No expectations beyond obedience. It’s actually a relief.”
Ivy set her sandwich d
own and looked squarely at Gen. “You’re in love him already, aren’t you?”
“I’m not in love with him.”
“Admit it.”
“No. I’m not in love with him.”
“Oh come on. You have that disgustingly awful, I’m-so-besotted-I’m-drawing-hearts-around-our-initials look whenever you talk about him.”
“Okay fine. Let’s just say, hypothetically mind you, that I’m in love with him. It would actually work against me in my current situation.”
“Do I want to hear this bit?”
“Probably not, but I’ll tell you anyway. He said right up front that he wants strictly dominance and submission. Nothing more. He’s not interested in a girlfriend or love or sappy sentiments.”
“And you agreed to this?”
“At the time I didn’t think it would be a problem. Hot, dominating sex, no strings attached, sounded exactly like what I needed. He’s not the type of guy I’d have ever pictured myself in love with. I mean we’re nothing alike, complete opposites.”
Gen’s cell phone chirped, alerting her to an incoming text.
My place, 8 p.m. Don’t disappoint me by being late.
B.
“That him?”
“Yes. He wants to see me tonight.”
“Hmm.” Ivy tapped the side of her mug with a perfectly manicured nail. “Let’s see if I have the right of it. He has you quite literally at his beck and call. You obey his every whim, love is against the rules and you can’t talk to anyone about it but me. I’d say he’s set himself up rather brilliantly, wouldn’t you?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like? Enlighten me.”
Gen melted into her chair with a sigh. “It’s intense. He’s nothing like any of the Doms I’ve played with before. BDSM isn’t a game to him. Dom isn’t some persona he puts on when he goes to a club on weekends. He’s the real thing, Ivy. We don’t role-play. He doesn’t stage elaborate scenes. There’s a real sense of power exchange with him. It colors everything we do. The tone of voice he uses when we’re together makes it impossible for me to defy him. I actually want to submit to him. And oh god, the man can wield a cane. No one has ever made me feel the way he does. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“Not everything.”
“Yeah well, it doesn’t matter what I want. Love isn’t part of the agreement.”
“What a load of bullshit. He doesn’t deserve you.”
“I wish that were true.”
“It is true. You deserve someone who loves you. Not someone who simply uses and abuses you when it suits him. Although the using and abusing part is probably fantastic. Still jealous about that. But not the point. The point is you deserve the whole lot.”
Gen gave a weak smile. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I think your first description was spot on. The man’s a complete and utter jerk.”
“He’s not though. That’s the problem.”
Ivy shook her head.
“What?”
“Only you would be stubborn and defiant enough to fall in love with the one man who tells you not to. What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. I can’t tell him, obviously. It would ruin everything.”
“Well, I hope he does right by you. If he doesn’t, we’ll watch loads of those scary films you like so we can plan how we’ll off him. Bloodily and painfully with lots of agony and torment. Hopefully that won’t be necessary. I would hate to get sacked for murdering my boss for his stupidity.”
Gen couldn’t help but grin. “Stupidity?”
“Stupid, dumb, thick, call it what you like. If he doesn’t fall for you he’s stupid and I’m not sure I want you with someone like that. I have to say, judging by the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching, I think he’s half in love with you already.”
“Ivy—”
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“I think all that kinky sex has mucked up your brain. Not that I blame you. I’d drop my knickers in a heartbeat for a man who knew how to properly use a cane and make me come so hard I’d forget my own name. But enough about that.” She grabbed her soda, plopped down on the couch and picked up the remote. “Sexy hunters sound good to you? The Supernatural series is on all day today.”
“I’m always up for Dean Winchester.”
“What is it about the naughty ones we like so much?”
“I wish I knew.”
* * * * *
Brian had intended to have a nice relaxing evening with Genevieve. Pizza from a local place she liked with all her favorite toppings. A horror movie he was sure she enjoyed. But rather than cozying up next to him on the leather sectional in his den, she sat on the ottoman as far away from him as possible. Her posture was stiff and she looked guarded and wary as she picked at a frayed hole on the thigh of her jeans.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
“Not really. It’s just that we don’t do this kind of thing.”
“And what kind of thing would that be?”
“You know, normal non-kinky stuff.”
“I thought we’d do something you enjoy for once.”
The corner of her mouth turned down. “How did you know what to order on my pizza and that this is one of my favorite movies? You’ve never asked and I’d have remembered telling you.”
“I’m very observant.”
Skepticism flashed in her keen brown eyes.
“You can tell quite a bit about someone if you pay attention.”
“Like what?”
“Judging by your perpetually empty fridge, and the sheer amount of takeout containers and pizza delivery receipts scattered around your kitchen, I’d say you’re not much of a cook.”
“Point for you. I’m a sucky cook. What else?”
“I’m pretty sure your favorite color is red. There’s enough of it in your apartment for that assumption and this is the longest you’ve gone without changing the color of your hair.”
“Right again. Anything else, Sherlock?” She challenged him with a quirk of her brow, clever girl.
“I also know you like horror movies. Your walls are covered in posters, Shaun of the Dead being one of them. You also own two of the t-shirts, which you wear often. I happen to like that one so I thought it would be a good choice for tonight.”
“You like Shaun of the Dead?”
“Is it really that hard to believe? I do have a sense of humor, you know.”
She smirked.
“What?”
“It’s just that I haven’t seen much evidence of this so-called sense of humor.”
Sarcastic little imp. On impulse, he chucked a garlic roll in her direction. It hit her square in the chest then tumbled to the floor.
She stared at him in shock. “You just threw food at me.”
“Your powers of observation are astounding.”
She sucked in a quick breath, picked up the roll and sent it sailing at his head. He ducked just in time to hear it hit the wall behind the sofa with a greasy splat. Without hesitation he leaped and tackled her to the floor. She squealed as he wrestled her onto her back and pinned her down.
“I do have a sense of humor.” He stared down at her. The feel of her struggling beneath him while her eyes glinted with amusement was enough to make him hard.
“I hate to tell you this, but throwing food amounts to bad manners, not a sense of humor.”
“I’m going to make you pay for that.”
“I hope so.”
He trapped her wrists in one hand, leaving the other free to torment her. He began at her left side. Just a light tickle.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Showing you my humorous side.”
“No, no, no.” Panic flashed across her face. “I’m sorry, Sir. I take it back. You’re hysterical. Funny. Great sense of humor.”
“Not good enough.” He tickled her harder.
She burst into gigg
les and squirmed under him. “Brian, stop.”
He traveled up to her armpit and let her have it. “Oh no, I’m enjoying this far too much.”
Gasping and laughing, she tried in vain to buck him off. “Brian, please!”
“Are you quitting?”
“No,” she sobbed between peals of hysterical laughter.
“I want you to say that I am the funniest, most intelligent, skilled and attractive Master you’ve ever had the pleasure of serving.”
“Master?” She was really laughing now.
“Yes. Master. Now say it or I’ll tickle you until you wet yourself.” He eased off, waiting for her to comply.
She took huge, gulping breaths, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Oh I don’t know. I don’t think I can call you Master with a straight face.”
He ran his hand over her breast, giving her nipple a gentle flick with his thumb. She froze. Caressing the flat of her belly, he made his way to the waist of her jeans. He took his time with the button, holding her gaze. She let out a short breath as he lowered her zipper. He slipped his hand over her panties, cupping her mound. With his middle finger, he rubbed light circles over her clit. It didn’t take more than a few seconds before the silk between them dampened. He loved that she was so responsive to his touch. He played with her slowly, enjoying the little sounds she made. He could make her come in seconds, but he wouldn’t. Not yet.
“Do I know how to master you?” He added the barest hint of malice to his tone.
“Yes,” she hissed.
He edged her closer and closer to climax, but held back just enough to keep her from falling over.
“So say it.”
“Yes Sir.” She gasped as he strummed her clit with light, steady flicks of his finger. “You are the funniest, most intelligent, skilled and attractive Master I’ve ever had the pleasure of serving.”
A Firm Hand: 2 (Bound to You) Page 14