by Sienna Mynx
That’s not your real question. Is it, Destini? No. The question that’s got you living in limbo is ‘why’? Why was he delaying your talk, torturing you? Why are you making yourself crazy over seeing him again? Why didn’t you recognize his voice, his eyes, him? Why change Rain’s love to dominate on a whim to be submissive? Why! Why! Why did you ever go to that club in the first place!
“Ms. Sanders?”
Destini’s head lifted from her palms. Her blurred vision focused on the shadow darkening the door. “Yes, Mrs. Brichton?”
“You’re still here? Everyone has left… it’s past six.”
“Oh, um I have these test papers to grade.” Destini discreetly reached for her laptop and moved it off the desk to the waiting case on the side of her office chair. The Director’s eyes followed the action. Did she know what explicit tales lay on the hard drive? Had Bryce told her about Rain?
Mrs. Brichton’s catlike eyes sparkled with keen interest. She smiled, and they glistened more. She had flowing red curls that framed her oval face nicely. Its thick luster enhanced her youth as well as her beauty. Delores Brichton was a striking woman. If she weren’t married and was a tad bit relaxed, Destini believed she too would have fallen under Sir’s dark charms. Then it dawned on Destini. Maybe she already has.
“Well, it looks like you’re done. Leaving? Mr. Carson has returned. He’s asked for you.”
“Returned?” Destini blurted. She didn’t think Bryce had left Gaylor Prep. She thought this week-long absence was part of his game.
“Yes, he had to visit with his brother. Family matter. I was summoned a few minutes ago to deliver the message. I was certain you had already left. I should have known your first week here would be the hardest. We can get the aide on this floor to help with the grading. She’s familiar. You inherited a rambunctious lot. It’s our duty to help prepare you.”
“Oh, thanks, but no, I can take care of my classes. Um, where is he? Mr. Carson?”
Mrs. Brichton gave her a sidelong look as she gracefully roamed around her office then stopped again over to Destini’s left, near the stacks of books and file folders. She spoke each word carefully. Her gaze trained on Destini during her delivery. “In his quarters, private wing off the west end near the study halls. He waits for you.”
Destini shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was on edge again. Maybe attributed to her usual paranoia, her mind did a sweep for an excuse to avoid the inevitable. Bryce had just as much to lose as she did if this woman or any of the staff knew of his desires. “Do you—” her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “Do you know why he wants to meet?”
“Mr. Carson’s brother used to visit with every new member to his staff. Dinner and polite conversation is all it is. I suppose he wants to continue to the tradition. Nothing to be nervous about. I will share that he was disappointed that he was called away so shortly after your arrival. It’s the custom here that the Chancellor relates to the teachers before the first school bell rings. The Gaylor’s are very committed to their staff and the students. This will be the only time you’ll be granted permission to enter Gaylor Hall. The private wing I mentioned. Are you ready? Your things?”
Destini opened her mouth to give objection, but to what? This was what she was waiting for. A second chance to tell him what she thought of his schemes. She rose. She looked down at her pencil skirt and her cranberry-red silk blouse. She wasn’t quite sexy. Well she didn’t mean to be. Their last meeting had left her dumbfounded. Seeing him, realizing his manipulations and her plight, was all too much. Gaylor Preparatory was supposed to be her fresh start. This meeting should happen here, where it could remain professional. And most importantly, where she could remain in control.
Destini had a plan. She’d march right into his office and lay down the ground rules. Once they were clear on her boundaries, she’d go home to her cottage and perform an exorcism on the demon in her pussy trying to convince her to go for another round. There was no way in hell she was returning to Wellington with her tail between her legs. She was here now, and she wasn’t running. Destini gathered her things.
“Yes, I’m ready.” She picked up her purse and case. She grabbed the test booklets and shoved them inside and fastened the lid. It was hard to miss her hand tremors. She glanced up into the watchful eyes of Mrs. Brichton. There was an awareness she would have preferred wasn’t there.
Oh yes, Destini. She knows. Look at how she stares at you. Do you think he’s brought other teachers here? Is she one of his pets? You know she knows that you once were.
Destini closed her eyes and again shut the door on her shyness. She was done with feeling regret over who she was or what she’d done. It was time for her to let Bryce know who exactly he was dealing with. Yes, she’d see this through.
***
Bryce strolled out of the doors of the student library toward his private wing. The Grecian-style hall was a long stretch of hardwood floors with floor-to-ceiling windows to the left and closed doors to the right. He found it empty and quiet. The chatter and children’s laughter was long gone. The waning sunlight dimmed to darkening shades with each soft fallen step as the sun set over Gaylor. He loved this time of day, time to reflect, time to disappear from the rigid discipline of his responsibilities.
A walk along this hall was unlike the others. The dark corridor led to the westernmost reaches of Gaylor Prep. Many of the less-frequented chambers were behind aged wood paneled doors that could only be unlocked with three-inch metal keys. He heard his father once say these rooms had been sealed since the Civil War. Historians verified that Robert E. Lee once stormed Gaylor’s gate. They were deepest South in West Virginia. Gaylor was firmly rooted in a history both interesting and strange.
And there was nothing stranger than the Gaylor twins. Bryce and his brother Thad were both Carson’s under his father’s name. However, it was his mother who had the prestigious blue blood that was directly linked to his great, great, great, grandfather Thaddeus Bryce Gaylor. So at birth they followed the path of their father and took Carson as a middle name and Gaylor as their surname.
It was history that fed the rumors about the male line of Gaylor ancestors. The most persistent was of this wing being haunted. To this, Bryce laughed. There were many secrets to be whispered in these halls but none supernatural. He passed through a narrow corridor accessible only by a family key. It weighed heavy in his pocket and was large and cool in his hand as he unlocked double doors, choosing to leave one ajar for her arrival.
The secluded room was once his father’s, and his mother’s father before him. Bryce and his twin brother had only visited it in secret as a child after watching his mother being dragged weeping through the doors. He’d learned the dark obsessions of Gaylor men far too early. And though dear old dad married into the family he had long before joined the brotherhood.
All of it wasn’t pathetically tragic. Success came with its rewards. Thaddeus and Bryce had turned Gaylor Prepatory into one of the best private institutions in the country. He didn’t know much about his brother’s exploits in Gaylor. They shared a love hate history that began in the crib. They had a terrible falling out. Their parting left Bryce intent on washing Gaylor and their legacy from his life. He officially changed his last name but his family prestige followed. He accepted a job in the public school system. Especially for the purpose of his father’s intent. He explored his fantasies instead at private clubs, and was even the silent partner in one. He did so mostly as a voyeur and only with the freshest of flowers. He had very discerning tastes.
She was truly his first to which he sampled those urges.
Destini.
She was his Delilah, his Jezebel, his Mona Lisa all rolled in one. Bryce smiled. He shifted his gaze through the open parlor to a set of large abbey wood doors. His room. Beyond those doors pleasure, corruption and surrender awaited his elusive beauty. If they came to terms. It was the only place he was allowed to feel anything, and she was the only person that seemed to make tha
t possible. This is where they would begin again.
Destini’s reaction to his manipulations had surprised him. She went from shocked, to angry, to accepting. She retreated emotionally from him before he could explore that conflict. Then his stupid brother called him to deal with their family issues in Ireland. Now he was back and ready to begin where they’d left off. After all he had used her best friend to draw her to him. He couldn’t wait to see her again. From behind, he heard the soft ticks as delicate feet approached. Bryce closed his eyes, summoning her image. Her long slender legs, in sensible heels, were where her cherry-painted toes were tucked away. A nicely tailored dark skirt hugged heart-shaped hips that fit nicely in his palms as he imagined forcing his cock between her thick thighs. He knew her blouse would be the most flattering. She’d wear one made of soft rippling fabric that draped supple pert breasts that begged to be fondled. He moistened his lips. Heat flooded his groin with remembrance.
Rain, Destini, he didn’t give a fuck who she called herself. She was one and the same.
“Finally,” he inhaled softly.
Delores Brichton entered with Destini following. His head turned, his eyes moved from one to the other. She was immaculately dressed, not a hair out of place, but she looked like nothing standing next to his sweet Destini. The makings of a smile tipped the left corner of Bryce’s mouth. Destini didn’t look pleased to see him. Her force field was in full effect. She tried to downplay her sexuality with conservative poise. But she couldn’t hide her inner sex-kitten from him.
“Thank you, Mrs. Brichton. That will be all,” he said in a low husky voice, void of patience.
“Yes, Chancellor.”
Bryce turned with his hands clasped behind his back. He moistened his lips as his memory did a total recall of Destini’s heady scent when aroused. Was it his mind or did he smell her sexy fragrance already? Destini approached, her soft brown eyes darting from one corner to the next, looking for the trap door or some trickery. His little minx plotted an escape before he gave her any reason to. He would need to tread carefully.
“You wanted to see me?” she asked, her voice tight and firm. Formal.
“You can leave your things at the door,” he replied.
“I can’t stay. I came because you summoned me, but I won’t stay.”
“I know why you came, Destini. Leave your things at the door,” he commanded. Her will was strong. She had no idea how much stronger and determined his was.
Destini stood there. Her defiance was evident in her flared nostrils and tightly pursed lips. He could hear her thoughts, her struggles, and found it all to be such a waste of time. What he offered her neither of them wanted to escape. Why delay it?
Bryce walked away.
Destini watched him go. Bryce strolled from the room into the next, leaving her to twist over her options. The exit behind her, the unknown ahead of her, she only had two choices—fight or flee. He looked handsome. That wasn’t surprising. He wore dark slacks and a crisp white linen shirt with diamond cufflinks. His jet-black locks were tapered neatly around his face with extended sideburns. His hair held such sheen that it almost appeared wet. Destini inhaled and savored the strong manliness of his cologne. It lingered, beckoned, enticed. Her purse slipped down her arm, past her hand and dropped to the floor. Her right hand opened and released her laptop bag. It hit the floor with a soft thud. Her breathing escaped her slow and easy. They shared an intense physical awareness of each other, and it demanded its due. She couldn’t deny it even if she tried.
Why not, Destini? You know that he was more than some unexplainable mistake. Let’s start with the fact that you had unprotected sex with the guy, shall we? Who goes into a sex club and gives it up bareback? What man lays in wait to do the same? And let’s not forget your career and reputation is on the line here, cause Destini yours is, but Alice Walker you ain’t. This is your fault. You invited this stranger into your life. Now you’ve accepted his invitation again. What is he really to think? That you don’t want him? Give it a rest. At the very least, get angry, damn it, not turned on! Don’t deny it, Destini. I know you’re turned on. I’m just the other voice speaking in your head, remember? I can feel the moisture gathering at the seat of your panties. I can feel the heated tingles covering your skin and your nipples getting tight. Oh yes. Maybe it was a lapse of judgment, that club, and him, that night. Maybe you lost your wits. But not now, Destini. You’ve had a week to gain a backbone. Use it. Or run, run fast.
Destini rubbed her sweaty palms down the sides of her hips. She left her things at the door as he requested. She followed him. Pulled by curious courage, she was unsteady on her feet. Nervous and anxious, she forced herself to ‘do’ not ‘think’. He’d looked upon her with an amused calm when she arrived with Ms. Brichton. She couldn’t help but align that look with the memory of the calm, evenhanded way he gave her the very first spanking.
When Destini crossed the threshold, sharp, distinct fragrances assailed her nostrils and filled her lungs. The burning scent of patchouli mingled with the heated candle wax and polished leather. That’s when she noticed. Candles were everywhere. He’d lit enough to torch Gaylor Prep and if not, then at least this sinful, kinky room. What do you think his thing with candles is, Destini? Maybe you should ask before he shows you? She wasn’t the least bit shocked that his life or this kink would extend to the property of the school. No matter how far back in the recesses of his mausoleum it was, his darkness was with him—a part of him.
Destini stepped forward. The small table set for dining was expected, yes. But not the large bed with four posts and black drapes tied to each corner with a ceremonial bow.
“Close the door, beautiful.”
“Bryce, I had time to think. I was shocked at first, and angry, now I just want to talk. I didn’t come to Gaylor to be… for this to continue. I have no intention of becoming your... possession.”
He cut her down with a dark stare. “Close the door.”
She did.
Bryce circled her. Every muscle in her being went rigid. He noticed, and she hated herself for not commanding the same strength and courage she found after their encounter. She shot down the advances of Bryce Carson, declined the offer of reconciliation from her deadbeat ex-boyfriend Russell. With Sir she was weak all over, mainly in her heart. It was one thing to face the world. It was totally different to face her hidden passion, reflecting back at her in his dark eyes.
“Have you thought of me?” he asked.
“What? No.”
“That’s too bad. I’ve done nothing but think of you. Every night,” he intoned. “Every morning.” His hand rested on her hip. “I thought of you in the shower, in the car, on the road.” His face now close, she could feel his warm minty breath on her cheek. “Why did you leave me, that night? We weren’t done.”
“It was reckless! We had unprotected sex. Do you know what hell I’ve been through?”
“I don’t understand.”
Destini gave him an eye roll. “I had an AIDS test. Did you?”
Bryce chuckled; she couldn’t believe the amusement flickering in his eyes. “You thought I infected you with AIDS, Destini?”
“Unprotected sex is not funny.”
Bryce took a step, and Destini stepped back. “Of course it’s not funny. But with you and me, it’s not an issue. Go ahead. Tell me, what were the results?”
“Are you insane? How many women do you do these things with?”
“Things?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Sex games.”
He dropped his gaze to her hips. “Ah, yes, sex games. I get your meaning.”
Destini felt the need to cover up under his scrutiny. “You don’t know me, Bryce, and after this stunt you pulled, I’m beginning to think I don’t want to know you.”
“I know you, beautiful.” He reassured her.
“You know Rain. She’s not me, not even close.”
“Your name is Destini Sanders. You’re the daughter of Belinda and
Darius Sanders, the sixth child of nine. Your father served in the military all his professional life but never ranked higher than Lieutenant, which was and is a sour point of disappointment for him. That and the fact he never had sons. Am I right? And your mother is a devout religious woman who raised her girls with strict disciplines of the Bible as she split domestic duties between your home and her church.”
“That’s enough,” Destini said, shaken to the point of trembling.
“I’ve just started,” he continued. “You’ve had only one meaningful relationship in your life. Russell Dumont. He broke your heart and your spirit according to Naiya––”
“I’ll kill her––” Destini breathed out in a whisper.
“You love to escape through words. Rain was an experiment, an accident, then a secret desire for you.” He licked his bottom lip, drawing it between perfectly capped teeth. His eyes dropped to her breasts and her nipples tingled. Destini resisted the urge to cover them with her hands. “Just as she is for me now, Destini. Rain lives the life you’re afraid to live, excluding that one night, of course.” He pulled her body to him; his hand never left her hip. She was too stunned to move. “In many ways, you’re like me. You wear a mask. So do I. We pretend that we belong to this world of rules and discipline but we don’t. Do we? I found you, my Black Jade. I have searched long and hard, and finally I found you. Because my beautiful delicate, unspoiled Destini, I had to.”
Destini released an uneven breath and felt her throat close when she tried to swallow. Her chest was tight. Heat burned at its center and in her palms. Worst yet, she felt the sting of tears to the back of her eyes. “I can’t believe you violated me like this. Researched me. Manipulated me.”
“You have no idea how much I enjoyed doing all of it.”
“Let me go!” she tried to break free. He held on.
“Researching you, uncovering the layers of your life and getting to peek under that veil you live behind. I’ve waited quite some time to find someone like you. It was improper and I am sorry if it scares you, but how was I to know otherwise? Would you date a man like Bryce Carson? The stiff shirt principal who grumbled through his day? Would you date a man like Sir, the voyeur turned Master who has a fetish for dark skin and the strap?”