Jake pushed off the locker and stalked the width of the room, back and forth, his frustration climbing. “That doesn’t mean it’s for him. I don’t want him getting screwed up in the head just because he’s got a hard-on for you.”
If anyone else had said that to her, Charlotte’s claws would have come out. But their friendship was deep enough for her not to take offense, knowing Jake was just being his normal, protective self when it came to his loved ones. She knew part of his reaction had to do with his bastard of a father and how the man had favored Jake, a star on his high-school football team, over his first born, Mike. That favoritism had caused a chasm between the two siblings that had only recently been closed again. Charlotte cocked her head to the side. “Jake, how long have you known me?”
Stopping short, he put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know—four or five years.”
“And in that time, have you ever known me to harm a submissive—emotionally, mentally, or physically?” There was a huge difference between inflicting pain for pleasure and harming a sub, and Jake would know full well which she was referring to.
Seconds ticked by before Jake let out an exasperated breath. “No, you’d never harm a submissive—I know that. And, shit, I know I’m the last person that should be questioning you. Nick didn’t know squat about the lifestyle, and Dev and Ian gave me the same crap when they found out.” He ran a hand down his face, then shook his head. “I’m sorry. You were right earlier—it’s none of my business.”
Sliding off of the table, Charlotte stepped over to him. “I never would have approached him if I didn’t see him respond to me in a submissive manner. I won’t hurt him, Jake. There will be a contract in place if he wants to explore.” She made sure his gaze was on hers as she added, “This is the last time you and I will have this discussion. He’s a big boy and doesn’t need his brother running interference for him.”
After a moment, Jake nodded. “Understood.”
“Good.” Charlotte grinned. “And don’t worry. I promise I won’t have him showing off his junk when you’re around.”
Jake snorted and rolled his eyes. “For that, I thank you.” He held his arms out. “Forgive me for being an ass?”
Stepping into his embrace, she hugged him back. “Of course. Good friends are hard to come by.”
* * *
Picking up his cell phone from the bar, Mike entered the number written on the napkin, but stopped just shy of hitting the send button, just like he’d done the other five times he’d tried to call Charlotte in the past hour. He had an interview for the waitress position in thirty minutes and not much else to do in between. The ex-con he’d hired the other day seemed to be working out so far, and, as usual, the rest of his staff was handling the slow Monday afternoon crowd without any help from him.
He hadn’t seen or heard from Charlotte since the night of her birthday party and couldn’t get her out of his mind. Had she told him to call earlier than today, his answer to her proposed relationship would probably have been no. But with the extra time, he found himself thinking about her, nonstop, and what she wanted from him—what she’d offered him.
After reading about all the different topics concerning BDSM on the websites she’d given him, he’d gotten more confused. Not about the basics of the lifestyle—those were pretty easy to understand—but the fact that he was being drawn toward something he’d never been interested in before. Then after talking to Nick, Mike had gone back onto the sites and started asking questions in the chat rooms using a random sign-in name he’d pulled out of the air. He’d been surprised at the number of male submissives who were in careers that were considered to be alpha-male oriented—firemen, police officers, an MMA fighter, a bull rider, and plenty of others—that is, if they’d been telling the truth behind the anonymous shroud of the internet.
The hardest part had been when he and Jake had been at the Trident Security gym the day after Mike had spoken to Nick. At first, while doing different exercises with free weights, they’d talked about their mother and how to get her to consent to the dementia testing and to consider selling the home she’d lived in for forty years. Whether she was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s or not, with her advancing age and declining ability to take care of herself, the best thing was to move her into an assisted living facility where the staff could keep a closer eye on her. Her medications would be administered on time, something they suspected she wasn’t doing at the moment, and the staff would help her shower and do her laundry. Her meals would also be monitored, and the staff would check on her during the day and night to make sure she hadn’t fallen. Both Jake and Mike worked wacky hours, and there were times Jake had to leave town with almost no notice for a mission or case. Running a restaurant required Mike to work odd hours and be on call when he was off in case a situation arose his staff couldn’t handle. The siblings could hire someone to take care of their mother in her home, but with an assisted living facility, there’d be more people her age around and activities other than watching mindless TV all day.
Once that part of their conversation was over, and Mike had switched to the bench press, Jake had started with, “So . . . I heard you and Nick had a conversation the other day.”
With the weighted bar fully extended over his head, Mike froze and narrowed his eyes at his brother spotting behind him in case his muscles gave out toward the end of the set of repetitions. He couldn’t be mad at Nick for blabbing to Jake because Mike couldn’t honestly remember if he’d asked him not to. Either way, it was clearly out in the open. Slowly controlling the descent of the bar toward his upper chest, Mike tried to make his response sound indifferent. “Yeah. Figured out of everyone I knew, he’d be the best person to talk to about . . . it.” That was the only word that came to mind—he didn’t know what “it” was exactly, but the word encompassed everything running through his mind. “No offense.”
“None taken. And I agree, Nick would be able to describe the flip side of things better than I could. It’s been a long time since I was on the submissive side of the lifestyle.” He paused. “So, did you come to a decision yet. Charlotte’s a good Domme to learn from.”
Mike came just short of locking his elbows with the bar held high. “Huh. I thought you’d be against her and me.”
Jake watched the weights go down again, waiting for the moment he’d have to reach out and assist with a lift. “At first, I was—I even went to ream her a new one before she, rightfully, put me in my place.” When Mike faltered, and his gaze slammed into Jake’s, his brother made sure he wasn’t going to drop the weight before holding up a hand. “I promise I won’t interfere again. She’ll kick my ass if I do.” He shrugged his sculpted shoulders. “I guess I always just assumed it wouldn’t be something you’d be interested in. You’ve never asked questions about it when any of us were talking about it at the pub or here at the compound.”
The weights were getting heavier with each repetition and Mike’s muscles began to quiver, but he still had a few more in him. “Maybe it just took the right woman. Not that I’m . . . argghh . . . saying I’m definitely going to try this thing with her. But . . . arrrggghhhh . . . I have to admit, I’m attracted to her. I mean, she’s hot as sin. I’d have to be on your end of the rainbow not to be fantasizing about her . . . arrrrrrrgggghhhhhhhh—enough!”
Jake quickly grasped the bar and helped set it into the cradle above the bench. Once it was safe to do so, Mike released it, shook out his exhausted arms, and stood, taking the towel Jake handed him to wipe the bench down. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do, Jake. All I do know is I can’t stop thinking about her . . . and her offer.”
Spreading his legs, shoulder-width apart and crossing his arms over his chest in that manner all military men seem to do, Jake cocked his head to the side. “Look. I’m not trying to talk you into it or out of it—that’s your decision—just remember that if you do decide to explore the lifestyle with her—or anyone else—there’s going to be a contract in plac
e—most likely one with an end date. That means, on that date, the fun and games may come to a grinding halt and the two of you go back to being friends or acquaintances, or you sign another contract with another end date. This isn’t the kind of dating you’re used to, Mike—hell, Charlotte may not even call it dating. Just make sure you’re going into this with your eyes wide open and no delusions that there’s a wedding ring, house with a white picket fence, and two-point-four kids at the end of it, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
Mike nodded. “I get it—I do. Do I want those things somewhere down the line? Damn right I do. Five years ago, I would have said no, but now that the big four-oh is approaching, what I want out of life has changed. Will I get that with Charlotte? Who knows? But I get the feeling, now that she’s put the idea in my head, I’m not going to shake it until I see if what she’s offering is for me.”
“All right. Like I said, the decision is yours. If you’ve got any questions, you can ask me or Nick. Otherwise, I promise I’ll stay out of it.”
“Thanks. And Jake?” He held out his hand. “Thanks for caring enough to risk pissing off a friend of yours because you’re worried about me.”
Taking Mike’s hand, Jake pulled him into a bro-hug and slapped him on the back. “We’ve come a long way—just didn’t want to lose what we’ve gained these past two years.”
“Amen.”
Mike took a deep breath and pushed “Send” on his cell phone. Putting it to his ear, he waited for the call to connect. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or disappointed when it went to voicemail. At the sound of the beep, he cleared his throat and plunged ahead. “Hey . . . Hi . . . Charlotte, it’s . . . uh . . . me . . . Mike . . . uh . . . Mike Donovan. I’m calling like you told me to, and . . . I . . . uh . . . was wondering if we could get together later and . . . talk, I guess. I’ll be at the pub for a few hours tonight, so if you want, we can have dinner and, I don’t know . . . just talk. Give me a call and let me know.” He rattled off his cell phone number just in case it didn’t appear on her cell phone screen for some reason. “Uh . . . okay . . . bye.”
Disconnecting the call, he mentally cursed himself for coming across as a blithering idiot. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sounded like a pre-pubescent boy calling a girl for the first time. Unfortunately, it was too late to take his message back.
“Excuse me, are you Mike Donovan?”
He glanced up to see a woman in her midthirties eyeing him. “Yes, can I help you?”
Her tentative expression morphed into a cheerful smile. She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Daniella Mavis. I have an interview with you for the waitress position.”
Mike had been so wrapped up in his thoughts about Charlotte, he hadn’t realized a half hour had passed by so quickly. Shaking the woman’s hand, he said, “It’s nice to meet you. Why don’t we go sit in the party room in the back and talk? Can I get you something to drink?”
As she shook her head and answered, “No, thanks,” Mike tried to force the thoughts of the hot Domme from his mind, which was hard to do—she was a helluva distraction. Play would come later, but for now, he had work to do.
5
Standing, Charlotte circumvented her desk and strode out into the reception area, her gaze seeking out her next appointment among the dozen or so parolees and probationers waiting for their assigned officers. She spotted Jose Perez as he stood and strode toward her, a genuine smile on his face. Turning, Charlotte returned to her office with the young man on her heels. Taking her seat again, she leaned back and stared at him. “I take it that smile means you got a job.”
“Yes, ma’am. I did what you said and went to talk to that career counselor, and she found me a job in a restaurant, putting what I learned in prison to good use.”
Charlotte couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Despite turning to a life of crime to support his child and fiancée, he’d managed to hold on to the manners the grandmother who’d raised him had instilled in him. “That’s great. Which restaurant?” She grabbed his file and her pen to write down the information.
“It’s a place called Donovan’s Pub. The owner’s really cool. There’s another guy who works in the kitchen who did time, too.”
Her hand froze with the tip of the pen pressed against the page in his file as she tried to maintain the false smile that had replaced her real one. It took a moment for the shock to wear off at the mention of Mike Donovan’s bar. Well, at least he’d hired a kid who really was trying to turn his life around. She hadn’t known Mike had hired anyone from the ex-felon reintegration program sponsored by the state, but honestly, she wasn’t too surprised after she thought about it. She could see him wanting to give a job to someone who was trying to straighten out their life. That was the type of guy he was.
On her desk, her cell phone vibrated with a new call, and she glanced at the screen. Michael. She let it go to voicemail, not wanting to take a personal call with a parolee in the room. She’d call him back in a few minutes. She fought the urge to grin as she wondered if he was sweating nervously, waiting for her to return his call.
Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she wrote “Donovan’s Pub” down on the paper, then asked, “What hours are you working there?”
Jose rattled off his schedule, and Charlotte transcribed it. She’d have to do a drop-in at some point within the next two weeks to ensure all was well, and he indeed had the job. She could ask Mike, but doing things by the book was one of her fast rules. Besides, she didn’t want to mix business and pleasure.
After Jose left, Charlotte saw two more appointments before shutting her office door and retrieving her voicemail. Excitement pooled low in her abdomen as she listened to Mike’s hesitant message. His nervousness, combined with the sexy timber of his voice, was turning her on. While he hadn’t said yes or no, she was almost positive he was going to accept her offer. It had been several years since she’d played with a man new to the lifestyle, and she found herself anticipating it more than she’d expected.
Saving the message, Charlotte hit the callback number and waited for him to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Michael. Dinner sounds wonderful. I’m looking forward to talking with you. What time is best for you? I don’t want to interfere with your business . . . even if it is for pleasure,” she added with a seductive purr.
There was a few seconds’ pause, and she thought she heard him gulp before he finally answered her. “Um . . . is seven too late? It’s after the dinner rush so it’s less likely we’ll be interrupted.”
“Seven is fine, Michael. I’ll see you then. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Charlotte.”
Oh, yes. He’s definitely going to accept my offer.
* * *
At 7:00 p.m. on the nose, Mike almost swallowed his tongue as the front door to the pub swung open and Charlotte sashayed in. Her skin-tight blue jeans, calf-high biker boots, and emerald green top caught the attention of every guy in the place—and a few women. Well, actually, it was probably the stunning woman who was in the clothes that had a bunch of them drooling—Charlotte Roth was mouthwatering. But Charlotte ignored everyone else for the most part, although she smiled and greeted a few people on her way down the bar to where Mike stood. She’d immediately sought him out and remained focused on his face as she approached.
Swallowing hard, Mike’s gaze involuntarily dropped to the tips of her boots as they came closer and closer, before stopping right in front of him.
“Good evening, Michael. How was your day?”
His eyes lifted again, and he found a sexy and slightly amused smile on her face. And just like that, his cock twitched—several times, in fact. Come on, Donovan, get a grip.
“It was good. I hired a nice woman to take Jenn’s position when she leaves. Can I get you something to drink?”
“A white-wine spritzer, please.” As he went behind the bar to make her drink, she hopped up on one of the stools and hung her pu
rse on one of the hooks he’d put under the lip of the bar for that purpose after a suggestion from Kristin Sawyer. As a guy, it never occurred to him that women were always trying to figure out the best place for their bags, where they were safe, yet out of the way. “Shelby mentioned you’re going to throw Jenn a going-away party.”
Relieved they weren’t just jumping into the heavy conversation that was coming, he grinned as he grabbed a bottle of white wine and a glass. “Word spreads fast. I only mentioned it to Shelby yesterday when she and Parker brought the boys in for lunch. It won’t be a fancy thing, but a lot of her regulars will be stopping in, and friends and family of course are invited, including you. Kristen and Angie offered to notify everyone this week. We’ll just set up a buffet and have an open bar for a while. She deserves a party—everyone loves her here.”
“She’s a sweet girl. She’ll do well in social work.”
Setting Charlotte’s drink in front of her, he snatched another glass and poured himself a club soda. “Yeah, she really likes it.” He shot a glance at her. “So, how was your day?”
“Long, as usual. But a certain voicemail I received made it much more enjoyable.”
A blush stole across Mike’s cheeks. Damn, how does she do that to me? I never blush!
“I’m looking forward to our discussion about your decision, but first there’s something else I need to tell you. Can we go into the party room where we won’t be overheard?”
Mike’s stomach quivered, and he tried to remind himself nothing was going to happen between them here. The doors to the party room were open and anyone could look in and see them. “Ah, sure.” He grabbed a menu and a list of specials. “Why don’t you let me know what you want to eat first, and I’ll put in the order. Someone will bring it in to us.”
Entertaining Distraction: Doms of The Covenant Book Two Page 5