The Pleasures of Winter
Page 12
Ten minutes later, they were on their way, not to Jack’s tiny apartment, but to Zeke’s upstate mansion, his New York home. Electronic gates, state-of-the-art security system, ten-acre grounds and colonnaded grandeur made it a dramatic contrast to the bustling streets of the city.
‘Cosy little place you’ve got here,’ Jack said. ‘It’ll be lovely when you’ve done it up.’
Zeke stared at him blankly.
Jack sighed. He sometimes forgot how people here just didn’t get the Irish sense of humour.
A butler opened the door. He bowed. ‘Mr Bryan, nice to see you again.’ But he barely gave Jack a nod of the head. A bar fight followed by a few hours in the cells hadn’t left him looking his best.
‘Coffee, lots of it,’ Zeke ordered. Did he think that Jack was still drunk? Then he led him into a beautifully designed replica of a nineteenth-century library. Jack was willing to bet that Zeke hadn’t read a single book in it.
Zeke said nothing until they were sitting down with coffee, then he rounded on Jack. ‘Are you out of your mind? Don’t you care about your career? Do you want to earn a living bussing tables? Well, just keeping carrying on like this and you’ll get there.’
Jack put down his cup. ‘It was just a minor fight. Nothing serious. I’ll pay the damages.’
Zeke waved that away. ‘I’ve already done that. Who cares about a broken chair? No, what I’m complaining about is the way you constantly go out of your way to ruin your reputation.’
‘It was a scuffle, Zeke. No one would have cared if I weren’t Jack Winter.’
‘Well, you are. And I’m hearing rumours that you’re involved in other stuff.’ He paused. It wasn’t like Zeke to be embarrassed about anything. ‘Weird stuff.’
Jack took a mouthful of coffee. ‘What weird stuff?’
‘You know. Kinky stuff. Spanking.’
Jack wanted to laugh. Some of the films Zeke had been involved in casting were seriously twisted, with people being killed in disgustingly inventive ways. And he was stuttering over a spanking. God forbid he found out some of the other stuff. ‘It’s not a big deal.’
‘Yes it is, Jack. They’re remaking The African Queen. You’re up for the lead, but not if this gets out. It’s going to be a PG film. You have to behave yourself.’
Jack was glad he was sitting down. The African Queen. That was one of the biggest roles in film history and would break him out of the pretty-boy movies he had been doing. If he got that, they would have to take him seriously. It was the role he had been waiting for since he came to Hollywood.
‘OK, Zeke, what do I have to do to get it?’
‘Stay clean. Don’t go anywhere, don’t talk to anyone, and stay out of trouble. Live like a nun.’
For the chance to play Charlie in The African Queen, Jack would agree to anything. He nodded. He would live like a nun.
12
Jack stared at the display on his smartphone. Three missed calls from Paloma. That was odd. He hoped she was all right. He called and she picked up on the first ring. ‘Are you all right?’
She sounded surprised at his urgency. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘I had three missed calls from you. I was worried.’
‘Sorry, Sir.’ He could hear the contrition in her voice.
‘I’m not your Dom any more.’
‘Old habits, you know? Besides, you were so much stricter than Tomas is.’
He wanted to grin but kept his voice stern. ‘I’ll get strict again if you don’t tell me why you rang. You can still do corner time.’
‘Ugh. I hate that. I hope you’re not mad. A friend of a friend has just discovered she is a sub, and she’s upset. I told her to talk to you.’
‘Paloma –’ How could he tell her why it was a bad time for this?
‘After all, you are responsible.’
‘What?’ Jack’s brain stopped working. It couldn’t possibly be Abbie. She had freaked when he had spanked her. ‘Are you sure?’ he said.
He could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Come on, Jack, how many girls did you spank in the jungle? She hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. She needs to explore, find out who she is.’
‘This is a mistake. Abbie Marshall is pure vanilla.’ Yes, the same Abbie Marshall who had a screaming orgasm when he spanked her.
There was a pause while Paloma considered that. ‘I don’t think so. But if you don’t want to do it, I’ll find someone else to mentor her.’
‘No!’ That came out before Jack had time to think. Of all the subs in New York, how the hell had Abbie ended up talking to Paloma? ‘I don’t want anyone else near her. She’s like Alice in Wonderland, wandering around getting into all kinds of mischief. God knows who she’d end up with. At least I can keep an eye on her and make sure she’s all right.’
Paloma laughed. ‘I knew it. You wouldn’t shut up about the jungle the other night. Abbie’s profile name is Wild Orchid. I didn’t tell her who you were. She’s expecting a message from a Dom tonight at ten. If you don’t want to be there, I’ll find someone else.’
‘No, you won’t. I’ll be there, and put the fear of God into her for this. And Paloma, I swear, if you were here, I’d have you over the table for a punishment spanking.’
She laughed. ‘Promises, promises,’ she said, and hung up.
Abbie closed the cover of her Kindle with a snap and glanced at her watch. It wasn’t time yet. Another hour before she had to go online and talk to a complete stranger about sex. What had she let herself in for? She hadn’t expected Paloma to get back to her so fast. She thought it would be weeks before someone would contact her.
She padded to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. She would need alcohol if she was going to do this, but not too much: Abbie mixed with alcohol equalled way too much frankness. Look at what happened the night she had talked to Kit.
She logged on to her Yahoo messenger account. Three tabs opened quickly, all sending her messages. Abbie almost closed the computer.
‘Idiot, they’re probably spammers.’
She took another peek. No ‘Disciplinarian’. Just offers of computer games. Abbie didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. Forty-five minutes to go. She would have a bath. That would relax her and when she came back she would chat with him.
She wished she had more time to talk to Paloma. What would she say to him? Would he expect her to call him Sir? No way, she was not addressing a complete stranger as Sir.
After her bath, she pulled on a pair of pyjamas and a dressing gown. Her watch said 10.15pm. Perfect, she didn’t want to appear too eager. Abbie logged on. No messages from him yet. She took a breath. ‘Here goes.’
Oh god, he was there. And he was annoyed. What was she going to do? Stop being so stupid and talk to him, Abbie. It’s not as if he can see you. She rested her fingers on the keyboard and began to type.
Abbie reached for her wine glass. That sounded cheeky and childish. She typed again.
Abbie took a sip of wine. She should have been more prepared. What did she expect from him? Not this. Not some strict, voiceless stranger on the other side of cyberspace.
She could almost feel his contempt. He must think that she was an idiot. Abbie took a deep breath.
By god, if it was Kev O’Malley that she was talking about he was going to kill him.
It was Kev. He would tan her ass for that. How dare she get involved with Kev? He paused a moment, remembering the jungle. He didn’t think Abbie and Kev had spent enough time together for anything serious, but he didn’t want her even thinking about Kev like that. He typed.
Jack was mad to know what she had to say. As if to torment him, there was a long pause that made him wonder if she was going to answer. He typed again.
It was true, he did hate that word. But even more important, it was a tiny thing that would demonstrate to both of them whether she could comply.
He wanted to punch the air. Oh yes, sweet Abbie, you’re going to be mine.
Wild orchid is typing appeared on the screen.
Jackpot! He had known she had come, had dreamed of seeing her orgasm under his hand, but he had wondered if she would admit it to herself. Was it possible that Abbie was serious about this, that she wasn’t just trying to get a story?
She had to know that he could save this dialogue. In fact, he would save it, just as a precaution if she couldn’t resist printing something about him. He could make sure she suffered just as much as he did. What should he ask now? He couldn’t tell her he had been there for it.
So she really was a BDSM virgin.
His favourite way. Some women didn’t like it, but to him, nothing beat the intimacy of an old-fashioned over-the-knee spanking.
He waited to hear what she would say. He had spotted some subtle signs that made him fairly sure, but wondered how self-aware she was. And if she would tell him.
Jack smiled at the idea of anyone bossing Abbie around, and not expecting to get an earful. But he wanted her to submit to him. His dick hardened at the thought.
Jack hardened even more at the thought of Abbie exploring her submissive side. He shifted on his uncomfortable wooden chair. Thank god there was no one else in the apartment to see him sprouting a hard-on while he typed.
Wild orchid is typing.
He was genuinely proud of her. That was a difficult thing to admit.
Abbie had never mentioned anyone except the perfect William Dullard while she was in the jungle, and only the dweeb had turned up to meet her in Miami.
She looked a little younger, but the assurance in her manner made it easy to believe.
For some reason, Jack hadn’t expected her to admit that she was a reporter. She should have more sense than to give a stranger so much personal information. Even if he hadn’t known her name, she had just given him enough to track her down. He would spank her for that later. But first …
The question hung on the screen, blinking back at her. The big question. Was it because of Jack? Had he made her feel this way or was Kit right? Maybe she had submissive tendencies. How could she have reached the age of twenty-seven and not know about it?
A vision came into her head of some of the scarier sites she had surfed on the net. Collars, whips, ropes, people dressed in leather. She was definitely not like that. Abbie took a gulp of wine. Mental note to self, do not buy any more of this stuff. The question flashed on the screen. He was still waiting for her response.
Nothing happened. Her answer sat there, laughing at her. Maybe she was wasting his time. Maybe he had gone away. A message popped up on the bottom of the screen: Disciplinarian is typing.
Abbie had never felt so relieved to receive a response. She leaned her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hands. What was she going to say to him? The truth, Abbie. Just tell him the truth.
Oops. Typed on the screen like that it looked terrible. Like she was some kind of cyber-slut who ran around sleeping with random guys. OK, she’d better clarify that. She was about to expand on her response when he came back.
Abbie typed furiously.
>
Relationship. Abbie stared at the word on the screen. They weren’t in a relationship. Jack was off, god-knows-where, probably with some beautiful starlet, and she was here talking to a stranger, trying to pick up the pieces.
Disciplinarian is typing.
What? How could he ask that? Even Kit didn’t ask her questions like that. She sat back on the couch. A minute ticked by. He did not have the right to ask her that stuff. She would give him a piece of her mind.