by Carson, Tori
“How could my blog have anything to do with the sicko sending those pictures?” She knew she had to tell him, but she didn’t know how to start.
“Maybe nothing, maybe everything. But, I’ll be honest, I want you to tell me because I want to know the real you. Don’t sugarcoat it. Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Just give me the truth. Why did you start the blog?”
Amanda looked into his eyes knowing once she told him, her worries would be over. No way would he want her as ‘his woman’ once he realized the extent to which she morally opposed BDSM. She’d be lucky if he’d agreed to continue protecting her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The ‘about me’ page pretty much says it all. The women in my family are loser magnets. We have a tendency to fall for the wrong type of men. I refuse to continue the tradition.”
He nodded. “From what I read, it sounded like your mom chose abusive guys. Did any of them hurt you?”
His tone was solemn. She hadn’t expected that. She figured he’d get arrogant and profess that women liked a strong man, blah, blah, blah.
“Not in the way you mean. Watching my mom get the crap beat out of her by men who professed to love her didn’t give me a warm fuzzy.”
“I’m sure it didn’t. Have any of your boyfriends or hookups abused you?”
This wasn’t going the way she’d thought it would. He belonged to a club that offered a wide variety of ‘impact toys’ to their members. Why would he pretend to care if a man used her for a punching bag when he did the same thing to women as often as possible?
James chuckled. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown two heads?”
He wanted to know the real her? Fine, she’d spell it out for him. “For starters, I don’t do hookups. And you—Mr ‘I go to the club every frickin’ night it’s open’—give me a break. Although I never go beyond the lobby, I do understand what goes on in there. Stop pretending. You wouldn’t go there if you didn’t get off on hitting women.”
James let go of her hands and sat back in his chair looking as if she’d kicked him in the balls. “What? You think I’m like those assholes who abused your mother.”
Amanda’s stomach was tied in knots. How could he appear so genuinely insulted when she’d only pointed out the truth? “James, stop. You can’t ask me to be open and honest with you then sit there feeding me crap.”
He pushed his chair back and started pacing. “That wasn’t just manufactured drama? You actually meant that crap you were spouting in the restaurant? You believe submissives are mindless bimbos and the Doms beat the shit out of them for fun?”
“I know what happens in the club. I’ve ordered more whips, floggers, tawses and canes than I can count. You can’t tell me they’re just for decoration and that no one ever uses them.”
“I’m sure André sells a lot of them. His stuff is top shelf. And of course they’re used, but they’re used for pleasure.” He shrugged then conceded, “And, when necessary, for discipline.”
“How can you say that with a straight face? It isn’t a prison facility. One adult doesn’t have the right to ‘discipline’ another. Have you heard about a historical document called the Declaration of Independence? It states that all men are created equal. And don’t even try to tell me that doesn’t apply to women, cuz if you start that crap I’m outta here!”
James sat back down and took her hands in his again. “You’re off base, Amanda, but you’ve filled in a few pieces of the puzzle for me. And for the record”—he raised his right hand and extended his index finger—“I don’t get off hitting women and—” raising his middle finger he continued, “that’s not what the club is about.” When she started to butt in, he stopped her with a wave of his hand. “That’s a discussion for another time. Now back to my original question, were you abused by your previous…partners?”
“No.” Because before she’d met James, she’d been smart enough to run in the opposite direction every time a bad boy looked twice at her.
“I read your grandmother was collared, was your mother in the lifestyle too?”
“No. My mom was a teen when her mother married Robert. There was a major family upheaval over their marriage. A few family members tried to fight for custody of my mom. It was a mess. Mom ran off with a boyfriend when she was sixteen… Their mother-daughter relationship hasn’t improved much over time.”
“Sounds like you had a rough childhood.” His tone was neutral, maybe conciliatory, but his body language screamed hurt. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings.
She shrugged. “It seemed normal to me, I have nothing to gauge it by. I’m close to my mom, but I think she’s nuts. I certainly never want to emulate her life.”
“Tell me about the guys you’ve been with.”
Cuz there’d been so many…not. “You make it sound like I’m with a different guy every week.” Then it dawned on her, of course he thought that. She worked at a kink club so naturally he assumed she was spreading it around. “Look, I’m not like that. I’ve been with two guys. David was my only real boyfriend. He was a really sweet guy, but there wasn’t any chemistry so I dumped him.”
“In your blog you said you had it bad for his friend.”
She felt heat rising to cover her face. The tips of her ears were burning she was so embarrassed. “Yes,” she hissed, wishing she’d never started that danged blog. “I can’t help who I’m attracted to. But I didn’t act on it. He was David’s best friend—it wouldn’t have been right.”
“Why did you go after your professor, or was that a lie?”
She shrugged. “No, I had sex with him. And before you get the wrong impression—I had a ninety-eight percent in his class before I slept with him. Believe me, I didn’t get anything out of it.”
“So, what you wrote in your blog was mostly accurate? You seduced him because he was older and you thought he could give you satisfaction in bed?”
“When you say it like that, I sound like a cold and calculating bitch. I’m not like that. I just…” Tears were threatening to spill down her face and if she didn’t get a tissue soon she’d be a slobbery mess. She tipped her head back, hoping gravity would keep the tears from falling.
James jumped up and disappeared down the hallway. He came back with a box of tissues.
“Thank you.” With as much grace as was possible, she blew her nose and dabbed at the tears.
“Tell me why you slept with the professor.”
With a heavy sigh, she tried to defend her actions. “The semester was almost over. I could have flunked the final and still received an A in the class so I figured it was safe enough. He was suave and had obviously been around. Neither one of us had anything to lose.” She shrugged again. This was too personal and she didn’t do personal. She majored in aloof.
“Were you attracted to him?”
How could she admit that only the wrong kind of men appealed to her? Men like James. “He was all right.”
James frown and raise an eyebrow. It was pretty clear he wanted more details. She threw her hands in the air. “What do you want from me, James? Did he get my panties wet? No. No, he didn’t. My defective genes only get turned on when a guy goes all caveman.”
“Amanda”—James moved onto the couch and then pulled her onto his lap—“you don’t have defective genes.”
He shook his head then looked up at her with compassion etched on his handsome face. Her heart beat double time. She should walk away while she still could. Only a fool would sit here in his lap soaking up his masculine scent and falling further under his spell.
“You’re a submissive. You respond to dominance.” He held his hand up. “Let me finish. You’re right to be careful. There are guys out there, both in the lifestyle and out, who abuse women. I can understand, from the limited exposure you’ve had, how you would want to run fast and far away from anything that reminded you of the bullshit your mom went through. But, Amanda, to steal your phrase, I’m not like that. The Doms and Masters at DiscipliNa
tion aren’t like that. If we found someone abusing our submissives, after we’d spent a few minutes alone with the asshole, we’d have ’em arrested.”
“I’m not submissive. Yes, I’ll admit I have my wires crossed. It does something to me when you get all bossy, but that doesn’t mean I’m submissive or, more to the point, that I ever plan to act on it.”
“I’m glad you haven’t submitted to anyone before me. It will make the gift of your submission all the more special.”
Amanda tried to get off his lap, but he tightened his hold. Physically, she could have forced her way free. She was sure had she pushed, he would have relented. Yet emotionally, she couldn’t muster the strength. “James, you have to stop. I’m very susceptible to you. I’m very attracted to you and you say all the right things.” She shook her head trying to find a way to make him understand. “Have you ever tried to eat just one potato chip?”
James raised his eyebrows again and gave her a stern look. If she hadn’t been so upset she would have laughed.
“Are you comparing me to a potato chip?”
His voice told the depth of his astonishment. She couldn’t help but giggle. “It makes perfect sense, you’re both very bad for me and yet I crave you. And I’m scared to death that much like a chip, I wouldn’t stop after the first taste. That I’ll be hooked and want more.”
“I’ve got no problem with you being hooked on me. In fact, I intend to do everything in my power to make sure you can’t get enough of me.”
“Isn’t there some sort of bodyguard code? A conflict of interest or something?”
“As a bodyguard my job is to keep harm from befalling you. As your”—he shrugged—“boyfriend, for lack of a better term, my job is to see to your happiness and wellbeing. I don’t see how those two conflict.”
“You were going to say Dom or Master weren’t you? See, we are incompatible. You don’t do the boyfriend thing do you?”
“If you are asking if I’ve had a serious relationship before, the answer is yes. Much like you found you had no chemistry with David, I found I had nothing in common with Melissa. Good sex isn’t enough. I’d like to be able to converse with my woman.”
“I haven’t even had that. I’ve had awkward at best, painful at worst, sex.” Was it wrong for her to want James to take her into his perfect bedroom and make perfect love to her? Although…if it wasn’t perfect, maybe she could get him out of her system. If sex with him was as uneventful as it had always been, then she’d be ahead. Wouldn’t she?
“I see those wheels turning and I doubt I’m going to like what you’re thinking about.”
He seemed leery and it made her feel a little more sure of herself. “How many women have you slept with, James?”
“One.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her best disapproving look. That was a lie. It had to be. He wouldn’t spend the money on a membership to DiscipliNation if he didn’t have sex. What would be the point?
“Just say it, Amanda.”
“Okay, fine.” She tried to hold herself away from him. “You’re lying to me. I’ve sat here spilling my guts to you and the first question I ask of you, you choose to lie me.”
“No, I didn’t. I answered the question you asked honestly. You, however, didn’t ask the question you wanted the answer to. Try it again.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re playing a semantics game. How many women have you had sex with?”
“I was pointing out that I’ve only had one relationship where I was comfortable enough to ‘sleep’ with a woman. As for the question you’ve just asked, I’m not sure how to answer that one. What’s your definition of sex? Do you consider scening sex? Or are you asking me how many women I’ve vaginally penetrated with my cock?”
“Okay, this conversation just got way too personal and detailed for my comfort.” But he’d brought up a good point, if they were dating she would consider scening to be sex…wait a minute, when he scened didn’t he normally have intercourse? “Don’t you usually”—she waved her hand hoping he would mentally fill in the blanks for her—“when you…‘scene’?”
James smiled and it lightened her heart. His eyes sparkled with mischief and he looked incredibly sexy. She was sunk. There was no way she was going to hold out against him.
“No, I can’t even remember the last time I…” He waved his hand emulating her motions while granting her a tender smile. “Until you came along, I hadn’t been in the market for a relationship. Actually, fucking a woman is very personal and it can give subs the wrong impression. I try to make sure I don’t send mixed signals.”
“But you want to have…regular sex with me?”
“To answer the question you asked—no. I want to have unbelievably fantastic sex with you. However, to answer the question I think you wanted to ask—yes, I want to put my aching cock in your sweet pussy.” James skimmed his hand down her torso and between her legs. “I want to have an intimate relationship with you.”
Her breathing quickened. “Why?” She couldn’t fathom why he would want her when he could have his pick of at least a dozen women at the club. Sexy women without the added ten pounds or so she doubted she’d ever be able to lose. Women with enormous boobs who liked being bossed around by arrogant men. Women who said they liked it when a Dom took a whip or a flogger to them…
“I’ve been drawn to you since your first night at DiscipliNation. You’re sexy”—he brushed his thumb across her lip—“and funny. We have a lot in common. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you?”
He was scattering her thoughts with his light touches. “The ladies’ locker room is just a few feet away from my desk. I hear the girls chatting about you. They get all excited when you’re in the hall. Those women are much more suited to your sexual interests than I am.”
“You haven’t asked what interests me. You’re assuming you know what gets me hard. Most of your assumptions this afternoon have been off base and insulting.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” She’d said it automatically then wondered if it was true. “Well, maybe I did. You scare me, James, and if I run you off I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart into a million pieces.”
“I’m not going anywhere and you need to stop running from me.” He put his finger under her chin and brought her eyes to his level. “Let me make love to you. Let me show you what it’s supposed to be like.”
Her heart stopped beating. The breath froze in her lungs. She shook her head as her heart jumpstarted and began beating scary fast. “You’ll hurt me.”
“Trust me.”
God help her, she wanted to. She wanted to have raunchy, hotter-than-hell sex with James. “Do you promise to suck?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I promise.” His voice was low and filled with desire, but it was his mischievous grin that stole her heart.
She smacked him in the arm. His very muscular arm that she wanted to have wrapped around her again. “That’s not what I meant.”
James stood with her in his arms. “You think too much, just relax for me.”
Chapter Four
James swung his arm down and let her feet touch the floor. “Go use the restroom.” He had to get her out of the room so he could remove the wrap on his ribs. His back was black and blue, but from the front he looked fine.
He got rid of his shoes and socks too. Then he rummaged around in his toy bag for condoms and some lube. It sounded like Amanda wasn’t very experienced and he didn’t want to take any chances on hurting her. He waited another minute and when she hadn’t come out, he decided to go get her.
“Stop futzing around and get out here.” He tested the handle and found it unlocked. Opening the door slowly, he saw she was leaning against the vanity with her hands over her face. James took her in his arms, careful to keep his back out of sight from both her and the mirrors. “I’m not going to hurt you, Amanda.”
“That’s not what I’m afraid of.”
“Tell me.” He had to be patient with her. He couldn’t let her slip through his fingers. Every instinct told him she was ‘the one’. That was the reason he’d spent night after night sitting on a barstool hoping she’d take off the collar and enter the great hall.
“James, I want a partner. I don’t want to want a man who thinks I’m his property to order around or worse yet to ‘discipline’.”
“You want me because we match. Your heart tells you I’m the man you need, just like my heart tells me you’re the woman I need. Yes, I am bossy, but I don’t want a dishrag. I want my woman to tell me what she wants and to tell me if she thinks I’m screwing up. I’m not perfect. I’m going to make mistakes, but if you trust me, if you take that leap of faith with me, we can make this work. Your heart is safe with me, Amanda.”
She nodded. “I’m gonna hold you to that, James. If you hurt me, I’m gonna kick your ass. I don’t care how much of a bad boy you are.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took his time thoroughly kissing her. When he finally pulled away they were both breathing harder. “Get undressed and get in my bed, where you belong.”
“You say such sweet things and I think maybe you’re not an arrogant prick—maybe we have a chance—then you start ordering me around and the illusion is shot.”
James smacked her playfully on the ass as they entered the bedroom. “I am arrogant and bossy, but I’m not a prick and this will work. You just have to trust me.” As she stood staring at the bed, he walked around her, propped up the pillows and gingerly lay down on the mattress. “Undress for me.”
“Uhm, it’s broad daylight and”—she wiggled a finger in his direction—“I don’t have a washboard tummy like yours. If you want a strip tease we need subdued lighting and a lot of alcohol.”
“I don’t drink and play, it isn’t safe. I’ve seen you in fetwear and you look fucking hot. I want my woman to have soft curves. I want you, Amanda. Now do this for me. Take off your clothing.” His voice was low and seductive. He needed her in his bed, skin to skin.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She kicked off her wedges and spun to give him a fantastic view of her ass. Her body started moving, slow and sexy. A song had to be playing in her head. Her actions were too precise and too erotic to be spontaneous. This was the last thing he’d expected when he’d pushed her to undress for him.