“When Lilly first came to my lake house—” Donovan began.
“Lake castle,” she grumbled.
“She was so nervous she could hardly eat,” Donovan continued. “Is that what you want for her? Or would you rather she be comfortable enough to take a good look at you and decide if she wants to play?”
“I’m not at my best.”
“Good. Because she’ll want to see you at your worst anyway.”
His worst. God. No one ever saw him at his worst. He’d even hidden that part from Donovan all these years. “Nobody—”
“Yeah.” Donovan cut him off. “I know. But that’s what true submission really is, Jack. If you can’t trust her enough to show her your worst, she can’t be your Mistress.”
Jackson took a deep breath and held it. In his lap beneath the table, his hands were trembling. I don’t know that I can go through with this. It’s too much to ask. Too raw. Too…
Something made him lift his gaze toward the door. A goddess stood there and he couldn’t look away. It had to be her. Everything inside him recognized her, even though he’d never met her before.
It wasn’t the blazing red hair that held his gaze, but the way she stood, like a general coming in to assess a battle plan. She was going to knock heads together and kick asses without breaking a sweat. She was tall, definitely—and he couldn’t suppress the momentary cringe at the thought she might think less of him if he ended up being just a tad shorter than her—but even her height wouldn’t have struck him deaf and mute like this. She wore power like a gleaming crown on her head and a royal cape around her shoulders. She was one of those people who commanded a room just by walking in. People turned to look at her, sensing the tendrils of her presence brushing the backs of their necks. He didn’t doubt some of them had goose bumps. He sure did, and he hadn’t even met her gaze yet.
Afraid he’d embarrass himself, he dropped his gaze to her clothes. Now he started to understand why Donovan blushed so much around his Mistress. Because damn. It was like every naughty prep school boy’s wet dream. And those boots. God. No wonder she was so freaking tall. He dragged his gaze up those shiny buckled boots, the prim and proper white tights…
No, not tights. Stockings. As she walked closer, the schoolgirl skirt fluttered just enough to show the garter.
She’s close. She’s here.
Yet he was still dragging his gaze upward, lingering at the hint of a fancy bra beneath her blouse. The leather jacket. Punk edge. Yeah, now that made sense. A tattooed snake crawled up her left breast and wrapped around her dusky throat. Not a snake. A dragon. Scales gleaming like jewels, eyes blazing like little fire pits. It looked real, alive, those scales moving with every breath she took, giving it life.
His heart was pounding too loudly for him to hear. He could imagine Donovan introducing him, reciting his ridiculously long, formal name. The firm he worked for. How long they’d known each other. His ears buzzed but it was the annoying sound of cicadas and crickets. Not voices or words that made sense.
Until she spoke. “Diana Temple.”
The chatter of a busy, popular restaurant suddenly washed over him. Steeling himself, he looked into her eyes. He had to tip his head back to do it. In those killer boots, she topped him by at least two inches.
Topped. It almost made him laugh nervously.
Her eyes gleamed in the low dinner lighting, guarded, he thought, but also interested. Brown eyes dotted with gold sparks. So pretty and striking. He’d never met anyone with eyes like that.
“You got a name, Angel?”
He dropped his gaze to her lips. Full, lush, wicked as sin, those lips made sweat trickle between his shoulder blades beneath the black sweater Donovan had convinced him to wear. He opened his mouth, but to his horror, no words would come out.
It was like every freshly minted lawyer’s worst nightmare. His first court appearance, standing before the judge, and everything he’d ever learned after all those years of school suddenly flew out the window. He couldn’t even remember his own damned name.
“Jackson,” Donovan said, his amusement ringing in each word. “Or Jack for short.”
Jackson could only imagine the wide smirk on his friend’s face, which finally jolted his brain into action. “Angel’s good.”
She stepped closer, forcing him to tip his head back even more. He’d never been so conscious of his own shortcomings before and it made his face blaze with humiliation. Her breath fluttered across his cheek, though, and she took his hand in hers, a tender squeeze that almost made him relax, until she spoke again. “From what I hear, this sweet Angel’s been very, very bad.” Her thumb stroked a circle in his palm and his mouth went dry. “Are you clean this very moment?”
He started to turn his head and give Lilly a piece of his mind for tattling on him, but Diana squeezed his hand in warning, keeping his gaze on her. “Yes.”
She tugged him closer and brushed her mouth against his ear. “You use again while we’re together and I’ll strip the hide right off your back with my whip, even if I have to fly to Chicago to do it. Got it?”
He nodded jerkily, but that wasn’t enough for her. She squeezed harder and gave a warning nip on the lobe of his ear. “Yes.” He hesitated, wondering if she wanted the title Mistress as well, but they hadn’t agreed to anything yet. He wasn’t going to give more than he had to, especially not this first meeting. “Diana.”
“Good boy, Angel. Now be a gentleman and help me with my chair.”
By rote, he pulled her chair out and scooted her close to the table. He sat beside her but couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze yet. It was humiliating enough to be shorter than his blind date. To be told he was a good boy and threatened with punishment if he was bad. I sure don’t need them to see how much I liked it. How much I like her.
Because he did. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had an erection, before last night, at least, but he sure had one now. And all she’d done was give him a cutesy nickname, order him around a bit and threaten to whip him if he took another pill. She knew he was from Chicago and had a history with drugs. What else did Lilly warn her about?
Lilly had told her Jackson was gorgeous, but Diana hadn’t expected breathtakingly gorgeous, so perfect that he almost didn’t even look real. He really did look like an angel with carefully styled blond hair and eyes so blue it hurt to look at him for long. And the way he’d looked at her…
A Mistress couldn’t ask for more on a first meet. Mr. Slick Lawyer hadn’t even been able to answer her at first.
He was still too shaken to look up and join the conversation, so she reached over and took his hand, threading her fingers through his. But she didn’t let him keep her hand on his lap. She dragged his hand over and braced their joined hands on her thigh. That brought his head up. If he was very good, she might even let him put his hand on her. See how far he’d dare to explore in a public setting, especially given his desire to watch others.
“I was thinking about buying another boat before Christmas,” Donovan said. “What do you think, Jack? Have you seen any good deals around?”
“That depends on what you want to use the boat for. Are we talking business or pleasure?”
“Pleasure, always.”
Lilly gave her sub a warning look that should have frosted over their wine glasses. “Don’t even think about it.”
“If you’re going to design another window, then I’ll need to get the boat sooner than later.”
Lilly turned to Diana. “I’m creating a massive stained glass project at Morgan Industries that just happens to feature Mr. Morgan’s numerous boating acquisitions. If he even thinks about buying a new boat to name after me, then I guess there won’t be any wedding for months and months because I’ll be too busy still working on his windows to plan it.”
She might have been blustering and threatening, but it was easy to see how
much Lilly really did love the man, and the way Donovan looked at her, he’d crawl on broken glass if she told him to. Diana smiled and took a sip of her wine. “When’s the big day?”
“Someone won’t commit to a date until the windows are done.” Donovan frowned and lowered his voice to a harsh growl that made Lilly laugh. “I’m thinking New Year’s Day.”
“Nobody gets married on New Year’s Day,” Jackson said. “You’d be better off to get married the last day in December.”
“Why’s that?” Diana shared a confused look with Lilly.
“Taxes,” Jackson explained. “He’d be able to pay his taxes at the lower married rate for the entire year, even if they were technically only married one day.”
Lilly smacked Donovan on the chest. “You’d marry me just to get a tax write-off?”
“I didn’t say he could write the wedding off,” Jackson replied in a slow, amused drawl. “Although knowing Donnie, he probably could figure out a way to claim the whole event as a tax deduction. Write-offs—”
“Oh don’t bore us with lawyer talk.” Lilly folded her arms and refused to look at her sub, even when he slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I promised to get the windows done by Christmas and I won’t have time to plan anything, let alone some huge ridiculous production of a wedding.”
“Who said I wanted a huge production?”
Lilly blinked and looked up at him. “You don’t?”
“I’ve been through the society wedding and I’d rather go to the dentist and have all my teeth pulled without Novocain than ever do that again. The list of people I’d care to invite to our wedding is quite small. Jackson, of course. Ricardo and his partner from New York. Chris.” Donovan looked over at Diana and explained, “Our personal chef. Lilly doesn’t cook.”
“Or drive, evidently,” Jackson added.
“So Jacob, yes, her driver. Annette and her son, they manage the lake house. That’s probably it.”
“What, you don’t want to invite Charlie, the guy who parks my car for me at the Galtier ramp?” Lilly used a snarky tone, but she reached up and ran her fingers over the silver chain at her lover’s throat.
Aha. A collar. Diana had to swallow down the huge lump that started to fill her throat. She was happy for them, honestly, but it was hard too. She’d given up hope of ever finding the man who’d be able to wear her collar for keeps. She glanced at the handsome man beside her, but couldn’t picture a thick, heavy leather collar around his perfect throat. Just like his rich friend, Jackson was too much the svelte gentleman to ever wear such a thing. Platinum and diamonds were more his calling card.
Nothing wrong with that at all. But it wasn’t hers.
Donovan leaned closer to Lilly, his eyes fluttering shut, her fingers curling around the decorative chain.
“That’s the second time I’ve seen you touch that necklace and he melts into a quivering puddle.” Jackson reached for the opened bottle of wine, but before pouring his own glass, he checked to see if Diana wanted any. It was a small gesture probably more from manners than anything else, but it still pleased her. She declined, wondering what they’d think if she ordered some scotch instead of expensive froufrou wine. “What’s so special about it?”
Donovan straightened, his jaw flexing as his cheeks colored slightly. “It’s not exactly a necklace. Or not just a necklace.”
“Then what is it?”
Lilly’s mouth quirked with amusement and she didn’t answer. Diana chuckled out loud, watching Donovan’s blush spread. “You’re right, Lil. He does have a very pretty blush.”
Chapter Six
Evidently the necklace that wasn’t exactly a necklace was important, because the women changed the subject without explaining its significance.
“So, Jackson, how long can you be in town?” Lilly asked, even though she already knew the answer. Typical deflection tactic, though. Turn the attention back on him.
He kept his attention across the table instead of checking to see what Diana thought of his answer. “Only tonight. I really must get back to Chicago tomorrow. In fact, my phone’s been buzzing so often that I finally just shut the damn thing off.”
“You’re so busy that you’re not allowed weekends off?”
Diana’s warm, husky voice made him shift slightly in his seat. “Rarely. Weekends are for getting the jump on Monday.”
“What’s Monday for?” Donovan knew this answer too, a smile flickering on his lips.
“Destroying everything in your path by Friday.”
Their food was delivered, plate after plate of deliciousness from aroma to presentation to taste. Jackson deliberately kept his gaze down at his own steak so that he didn’t offend Diana by watching the other woman eat. She had no such hesitation, though.
“Damn, girl, I forgot how much fun it is to eat with you. It’s almost as good as watching an exhibition scene at one of my old parties.”
She had to have made that reference deliberately, wanting to see its effect on him. Calmly, he cut a bite of perfectly medium rare rib eye and chewed it. As though he didn’t have a rock-hard erection throbbing against his zipper.
“I call them foodgasms.” Donovan chuckled. “Wait until she gets to dessert.”
“I can see why.” Casually, Diana set her fork down and picked up her wineglass with her left hand. Under the table, she reached over with her other hand and palmed his cock. Lowering her voice, she leaned closer to him. “As I thought. Good boy, Angel.”
No one had ever called him anything but Jack or his full ridiculous name. Angel was silly and probably should have offended a man who’d conquered the world before age forty, but oddly, he liked it. When he teased Donovan by calling him Donnie, it was out of a long friendship. He’d never had that kind of relationship with a woman before.
She pulled her hand away to continue eating and he had to clench his jaws to keep from asking her to put her hand back. Hell, maybe she’d consider following him to the bathroom and easing his need with another stroke of her hand. It wouldn’t take much.
Christ, it’d been so long since he’d been on a normal date, let alone had a woman touch him, that he was losing his fucking mind.
Desire simmered in him, fueled by her voice, her nearness, the casual brush of her arm or thigh, the spiced scent of her perfume. Every once in a while she’d just happen to touch his thigh, as if she loved feeling him jerk into awareness or jump at her slightest caress. By the time the dishes were cleared and dessert was ordered, he was sweating, his thighs aching with strain.
She dropped her hand to his arm this time and squeezed hard enough her nails bit through the sweater. It made him suck in a deep breath, fighting to keep a groan from escaping. He shot a hard look at her, a warning, but she only smirked. God, she was enjoying this. She enjoyed watching him suffer and squirm.
Of course she does. She’s a Mistress.
A sudden flood of weakness washed over him. Vulnerability. It wasn’t a feeling he endured often, if at all. He took pride in being completely prepared for any and everything the meanest judge or sharpest opposing counsel could throw at him.
No preparation or defense would save him now. In fact, that was the whole point of sitting here with her. She was the kind of woman who would rule her bedroom like a fearless empress. Instead of condemning him to the dungeon or to the hangman’s noose, she’d…
Do any damn thing she wants. And I don’t think I’ll care.
The thought rocked him to the core.
“You all right?” she asked softly, her fingers caressing his forearm instead of digging into him as before.
He didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t all right. It was suddenly glaringly obvious how not all right he was. He ought to run to the airport like demons were chasing him, but all he wanted to do was toss his career into the toilet and follow her wherever she led.
“It
’s sudden, I know. You weren’t exactly looking for someone like me when you came to St. Paul, were you?”
“No.” He had to clear his throat, checking quickly to make sure his friend was occupied. Donovan was watching Lilly devour a piece of cherry pie, and by the fierce concentration on his face, he wouldn’t notice a nuclear bomb going off. “I didn’t even know.”
He didn’t know that he’d be interested in a Mistress at all. Had no clue that he’d even be turned on by the idea. He hadn’t been turned on in so long he’d pretty much thought that part of him had been destroyed by the long hours of his job and the way he treated his body.
“Lilly told me you’ve never done a scene.”
He shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. He didn’t like admitting his ignorance. Oh sure, he’d known people went to clubs and such. Swingers and dungeon-goers. He knew of them. Just never expected he’d want to join in.
“What do you know about this lifestyle?”
He let a self-deprecating smile curve his lips. “Nothing whatsoever.”
She hummed beneath her breath. Actually it was more of a whisper, though he couldn’t understand her words. It made goose bumps rise on his arms, even though sweat still trickled down his chest. “Are you all right?”
“What? Oh, sure. Sometimes I think out loud.”
“That didn’t sound like thinking. I couldn’t understand it.”
She gave him a mysterious smile. “Maybe you will someday. Anyway, what I was thinking is how lucky I am to get the job of breaking you in for the first time. I don’t take such a privilege lightly, I assure you.”
Breaking him in? That sounded suspiciously like dog training. “Are you going to housebreak me too?”
She laughed softly. “If that’s what you need. Do you, Angel?”
He opened his mouth to retort absolutely not, but realized he didn’t know. He had no idea what this new territory would bring. He met her gaze, afraid he looked more like a wild-eyed startled deer than a man.
Her amusement faded to a solemn look of understanding that made his stomach tremble. “It’s all right, Angel. We’ll figure it out together. If you trust me. Do you want to invite me back to your hotel room tonight for some exploration, even if I whip you for every pill I find?”
The Billionaire's Ink Mistress: Billionaires in Bondage, Book 2 Page 4