Young, Allyson - Reason [Club Pleasure 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Allyson Young

  The sight of her naked body took his breath away. Again. She marched toward him, her pert breasts bouncing, and his eyes dropped to her sex. It was still swollen from his use and he badly wanted to touch her, sooth her there.

  “Let me see your ribs,” he demanded instead.

  “No, they’re fine.”

  “Ivone.”

  * * * *

  Ivone had herself under control now. She wasn’t going to swear and scream at him anymore. It was beneath her.

  “Don’t you try that dark-Dom tone on me, Jamison Landry. You forfeited that right,” she fairly snarled.

  Whatever it was had come over her again. She did not behave like this with any man she was in a sexual relationship with. Behave yourself, calm down, pull yourself together! She tried again, because he had coiled his big frame up from the chair, intent written across his features. She wanted to jump on him and grind herself against that erection he was sporting. He might be an ass, but lots of women boffed an ass. Just make this about a quick fuck. At the same time she longed to slap his face.

  “I am fine. I don’t need you to check my ribs, really.”

  There, that was the ticket. She had been firm but polite. So why was she face down on the bed with his hand on her ass? Jamison’s hand traced two places near her waist.

  “Stay like this,” he ordered. “I’m going to get a bandage and apply it so that you won’t irritate it. It’s already scabbing over again. And Ivone, if you move, you won’t sit down to eat your breakfast.”

  Ivone lay as instructed, and fumed. She suffered the application of some ointment and let him apply Band-Aids. All this fuss, much too late. Breakfast had better be worth it, although it would probably taste like sawdust if she had to look at him. Vaguely, she knew that her intense emotional response was a defense mechanism, although quite out of character for her. She was a patient person and never let people get to her, or at least never let them see that they had. She had considerable practice hiding her feelings, both to save her mother more guilt and to save herself. Goddamn this man. Why hadn’t he turned out to be a simple Dom, one who liked to give pain, coupled with lots of hot sex? Ivone pushed away the fact that she hadn’t been successful in finding one of those, as well as the fact that she had already acknowledged that she needed more, that Jamison Landry had awoken something deep inside of her.

  She donned the borrowed clothing without comment. The tights fit passably well, and the flowered shirt, although antiquated, was worn soft by hundreds of washings and flowed around her, hiding the fact that she had no underwear. Ivone figured Jamison had chosen the least flattering of the women’s clothing he had lying around and ignored the little twinge it gave her. Whatever. Breakfast and then, move on. The club would have another event in a few weeks and by then she would have forgotten Jamison and he her, if she could make herself go through that door ever again.

  * * * *

  Jamison was amazed at her lack of response when Ivone dressed in the only outfit he had been able to find. She looked adorable, if a bit frumpy in the top. The tights outlined her lovely little butt and legs though, and he was glad that Eleanor’s old shirt came down to her thighs. He didn’t need to be further tempted until Joyce was more seasoned. Having a naked woman kneeling at your employer’s feet or spread on his lap might take some getting used to. He offered his hand to escort her, but she smiled distantly and slipped past him out the door. When she hesitated, clearly not knowing where to go next, he placed his hand on the small of her back, carefully avoiding the small injuries and guided her to the dining room.

  Joyce was setting out silver trays of hot, steaming food on the sideboard. Jamison was taken aback. Joyce must have been under the impression that this breakfast was a big deal. Well, so it was. He was still trying to ignore how Ivone was getting under his skin while sussing out ways to keep her with him, but that was no excuse for being rude. He pulled a chair out for her, but she had already gone to where Joyce was standing to offer her hand and her name. He felt totally ashamed. There was no pretence with Ivone. John had seen that, even if she had been naked and kneeling when he first laid eyes on her. Jamison’s face flamed with embarrassment and he moved to awkwardly perform the introductions.

  Joyce looked a little flustered at Ivone’s outfit, but clearly the young woman’s charm and spontaneity disarmed her. She shook her hand and smiled widely, indicating that she hoped breakfast would be suitable. Ivone was so enthusiastic in her response that Joyce positively bounced from the room to get the coffee.

  John was waiting by the table and when Ivone turned her smile on him, the old man seemed to melt. Jamison felt like an outsider. He suddenly didn’t like himself very much. He went to fetch Ivone and placed her firmly in the chair he had selected. Joyce came back to serve coffee and asked that she be called if anything further was required.

  Ivone ignored him, but she and John engaged in conversation. Jamison heard John telling Ivone personal information that he had only learned about his friend as an adult. Which made sense, he supposed. John had been too busy shielding him from his father to have time for much sharing, and he had been too young anyhow for John to be his friend at the time. Ivone told John what she did for a living and made him laugh with some of her anecdotes. Jamison sensed, though, that she wasn’t always happy in her work, that she liked it, but that there were issues. Well, if she agreed to become his sub, she wouldn’t have to work. She wouldn’t have the time. He watched and listened as he ate and drank his way through a marvelous repast. John must have told Joyce that Ivone was to be treated very well indeed. Ivone picked at her food and drank too much coffee. Jamison longed to cut her off. Too much caffeine wasn’t good for a person. He managed to hold his tongue though. This breakfast was to assuage John’s anxiety, but he was getting incredibly invested in and possessive of Ivone. Why else was he thinking about her becoming his full-time sub? Not that she was giving him any real hints that she’d agree. Jamison was tenacious however, and had never failed when he made up his mind about something. Comparing a relationship with Ivone to a business deal probably wasn’t the best idea, and he resolved to think about it differently, once he learned how.

  When the meal was finished, Ivone thanked Joyce and gave John another smile. She turned to Jamison without looking directly at him, and gestured to the phone.

  “I think I’ll call a cab, Mr. Landry,” she said sweetly. “You’ll have lots to do, I’m sure, and I should be getting home. I have a cat who will be wondering where lunch is.”

  “Don’t,” he murmured. “I want to talk to you.”

  John discreetly vanished into the kitchen, and Jamison caught Ivone’s panicked glance in that direction.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” she tried, backing away.

  Jamison shrugged and effortlessly lifted her into his arms, and headed for the playroom. Ivone struggled a little, but she didn’t use her safe word or look at him. He could see moisture glittering on her lashes and he suddenly knew what it had cost her to get through breakfast for John’s sake. He felt ashamed again, and tried to think like a man, not a play Dom. He changed direction and went back to his bedroom where he gently sat her on the bed and took the chair.

  “I’d like to talk with you,” he amended.

  It was clear that Ivone understood the concession.

  “Then talk,” she invited.

  “Why did you deny me this morning?”

  “I didn’t,” she answered.

  He waited.

  “You didn’t use a condom.”

  Jamison closed his eyes for a moment. She wasn’t on birth control, and she could be pregnant. How had she taken his control? Bullshit. He needed to quit making this her problem and man up. Damn it. It didn’t matter because he didn’t care if he had made a baby in her. He wanted Ivone, any way he could have her.

  “Are you on birth control?” he managed to ask civilly.

  “I am.”

  “Then why…” he began, then abruptly shut up. He unde
rstood. She was totally right and he had fucked up. Christ. A night with her and his brain wasn’t working. That made two mistakes if he had been counting, and he hadn’t been, so that probably meant he’d made more than just two!

  “I apologize, Ivone,” he said quite formally. “My behavior was inexcusable.”

  Ivone said, “You tested me all evening and then ‘forgot’ something really important. You forgot about my rights as a sub. I share the responsibility for the safe word, but you…” Her words trailed off as she looked at his face.

  “I did test you. I am not in the habit of explaining myself, but in this case, suffice it to say that I have extremely high standards and hate to waste my time.”

  Ivone stood, effectively cutting him off. “Stop. Stop it now. You will never find someone to measure up because you keep changing the rules, raising the bar, because you don’t have a clue. It keeps you from making the commitment. I understand. I really do. I’m afraid myself. But I’ve just discovered that I need more, and perhaps I misled you. I apologize for my earlier behavior. I know better. Now, I would like to leave.”

  Jamison knew the truth when he heard it. Especially when he was so angry at himself that he could have punched a hole in the wall. In a few short sentences, Ivone had laid him bare and forced him to face himself. Now she would leave, and he would go back to his old ways and be content. Right, he wouldn’t interfere, wouldn’t try to stop her. He nodded.

  “I’ll call you a cab,” he affirmed. “You may collect your coat and wait at the front door. The clothing was all that we had available, and there is no need to return it. John will show you out.”

  * * * *

  Ivone kept a neutral expression and hurried out of the bedroom. So he hadn’t tried to remind her of her place when he’d provided the strange garments. She thought she should go back, try to open a dialogue, but she saw John was waiting with her coat.

  “I had hoped that he would recognize you, my dear,” the old man confided quietly.

  Ivone looked at him.

  “He needs you. I can tell you are different from the others and so can he, but he won’t allow himself to accept it. He is afraid, Miss Ivone.”

  Ivone bit her quivering bottom lip. “It scares me to know that I understand everything you just said to me, John. It should be too soon. I only met him last night, yet we connected in a way I’ve never felt before. But he would consume me because he can’t seem to stop finding fault, and would keep pushing me away. I know that he’s trying to protect himself, but I would keep trying until I was used up. That fear of his would kill us both.”

  She stopped, wondering where that insight had come from. Her mother talked of finding her soul mate in her father, but theirs had also been a tortured relationship even though they couldn’t live without one another for any length of time. Ivone couldn’t do that. She liked herself too much for that. It had taken a lot of work, a lot of therapy, but she had come to like herself, to learn and believe that she hadn’t been responsible for driving her parents apart. That she was entitled to a relationship that was different from her parents. That she just might be worthy of love. Impulsively, she kissed John on the cheek.

  “Take care of him,” she whispered.

  “I will,” he answered gravely. “As much as he will let me.”

  “Ivone.” Jamison’s voice penetrated their collusion. “Come here.”

  Ivone trembled but took a step toward him. Her brain told her to flee, to maybe save herself, but her heart was her mother’s.

  Jamison pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her like steel bands, and spoke to John over her head.

  “Miss Ivone will be staying for the weekend. Please advise Joyce.”

  John sounded both worried and relieved. “Yes, sir.”

  Jamison took her down with him onto his huge bed, tearing away the shirt and pulling the black pants down to her knees. He fumbled his cock out and entered her in the next breath, crushing his lips to hers. He pounded at her, the fabric restricting her knees and making her tighter to penetrate. It felt as though he was trying to show her what she meant to him, that he would try not to push her away, that she was his woman. They reached orgasm nearly at the same moment and he muffled her cries with his mouth and then groaned his release into her shoulder. He didn’t take his weight from her right away but engulfed her with his whole body, and Ivone fancifully thought he was trying to absorb her very soul as he held her so closely. When she pushed at his shoulders and he realized she couldn’t breathe, he rolled off but pulled her with him, never taking his eyes from her face nor his arms from around her. He looked at her with what she thought might be love, or something close to it, although she really wasn’t sure she knew what love looked like. She stared back at him with the same expression, she was sure, and when he smiled, her heart melted. Not that she would give voice to it.

  Chapter Four

  Ivone pushed the pencil behind her ear, snagging it through her hair. She was exhausted and hoped the final two hours of her work day would move quicker than the first several had. Reed was back and pissed at the lack of movement on one of the accounts. He knew where the fault actually lay, but for some reason decided to blame the team. Ivone stood up to him, and he had stormed away before returning a short time later to ask her forgiveness. However, that meant the team really had to produce and everyone was worn out and seeing double. Ivone ruefully reflected on the weekend she had spent with Jamison. He hadn’t let her sleep more than a few hours at a time, so she was more tired than normal.

  Idly, she thought back to those three days. Jamison was truly insatiable, and he had taken her every way he could think of and then became more creative. He had corrected her the same afternoon that she had lost it and told him off, and Ivone didn’t especially want to dwell on that memory. He denied her countless orgasms until she lost her voice begging, and then finally gave her one that caused her to pass out, for he had actually given her several, but so close to one another that she couldn’t separate them. That experience had actually been close to painful. He had woken her with an icepack on her clit while he fucked her from behind and she was glad to avoid release that time. She was also really glad that she took estrogen shots rather than oral birth control, because he was probably incredibly potent.

  He had then flogged her, paddled her, clamped her, and brought her off with ease throughout the weekend, and she had loved it all. She suspected his preference was her ass although she had sucked him off several times and had learned how much he liked her to hold her breath when he was at the back of her throat. Jamison seemed to save vaginal sex for his more tender moments. He held her afterwards and looked into her eyes as though he was searching for something. They spent time talking and sharing, too, although Ivone knew Jamison still kept a part of himself aloof. She understood it would take time before he would feel safe enough to open up to her fully but was too tired to speculate. She had learned he was wealthy and had inherited the business from his father, and that he had one sister, several years older than he was. Liza hadn’t married, apparently, although she was presently in a relationship. Jamison had told her that he hoped she would meet Liza when she came for her next visit. He clearly envisioned a longer relationship that his usual ones, and Ivone carefully stored that vision away for examination at a later date.

  She told him about her parents, and how they had time only for one another, although had cared for her in a diffident manner. She was careful not to draw too obvious a comparison about her mom and dad’s stormy relationship, on again, off again, but always with deep, deep passion. It had frightened her as a child, and scarred her psyche, too, for the continual leaving and reuniting tainted her views of relationships. Her parents hadn’t used her against one another. She went with whoever left after a drama, taken along like one of the suitcases, silent and worried. Oh, there was never any physical violence, but the emotional angst tied her in knots, and she worried about ever being able to commit, to take the risk of anyone having such
power over her and being able to hurt her so deeply. She had so badly wanted to be taken care of on some level and then found the clarity of BDSM reassuring and freeing as the correction and discipline alleviated all her pent-up emotions. But it was about learning to trust, and now she had met someone she was strongly attracted to on so many levels, and who seemed to struggle with similar shit. Oh boy. Life had an interesting sense of humor.

  Joyce served wonderful meals, and although Ivone had been nude and kneeling at Jamison’s feet or curled on his lap, he had made certain that she had the choicest morsels from his own plate. Joyce took her naked presence in stride, which seemed to surprise Jamison, for initially he had been tense and protective. But Joyce, after a brief hesitation, had merely nodded to Ivone and kept cooking for them. John of course accepted her as though she belonged, which she felt she did. Jamison had undergone some sort of change. She didn’t want to examine it too closely, but he, too, seemed to have simply accepted her and had forgone his “tests.” There had been no talk of a contract, and Ivone wasn’t concerned about that, although she probably should have been. He had driven her home in time for her to get ready for her job, as promised, and told her that he would see her later. Ivone simply took him at his word and didn’t worry about it.

  She forced her attention back to the work. She caught Kathie’s interested look and gave a noncommittal smile. She had chosen her clothing and makeup with care that morning to conceal any evidence of the weekend of debauchery, but Kathie seemed to sense something. Kathie was nearer her age and had asked about BDSM. Ivone had told her not to fool with something unless she had educated herself, and suggested several books and Internet sites. Not that she was following protocol of late! Ivone didn’t hide her interest, but neither did she flaunt it and had wondered where Kathie picked up on it. It turned out that Kathie’s cousin frequented Vice and had let it slip that Ivone was a member. Fortunately, the cousin had moved away and hadn’t outed Ivone’s status in the club. Ivone had no intention of letting Kathie have any more info than she already had, especially about the past weekend. This thing with Jamison was too precious. Not that she would be the best mentor in any event, considering how she had flouted the D/s code much of the weekend. She really didn’t care that she had.