Chase reached into a drawer near the kitchen entrance and pulled out a baseball cap. He put it on and the boy appeared, carefree and playful, his recent trouble on the field already in his rearview mirror. He stopped just short of exiting the kitchen and turned back to her, his grin slightly penitent.
“You know, the minute you tell me you’re sure, we’ll be picking out the ring. And I support whatever you want to do with the restaurant. The following-me thing was the lame excuse I was using because I couldn’t tell you why I was all pent up. That problem’s solved.” He smiled at her from across the room, all confidence and compromise. “But spring training is going to be awful if you’re not in Tampa with me. I don’t sleep well on the plane. I’ll see you tonight.”
And then he was gone. She heard him holler good-bye to Lena, the woman’s “Adios” from a safe distance, then the echo of the front door closing and she was alone. She flushed anew with the thought of his housekeeper hearing any part of their discussion. Amanda looked around the kitchen, toying absently with her coffee cup. He was right. She had a lot to think about. Was she ready? Could she handle the sort of relationship he had proposed to her? And if she couldn’t, would she be able to say good-bye and not feel a heartbreaking void? She already felt his absence, and he hadn’t been gone more than a minute. She wanted to be angry with him. He had no right to wait until after he sucked her in with all his appeal to reveal this side of himself. He was offering her everything he had in exchange for her pain threshold and willingness to submit to him on his whim. That she was even considering it disturbed her. Equally disturbing, he acted like already knew what her answer would be.
CHAPTER 9
AMANDA DID TAKE a bath in Chase’s Olympic-sized tub. Lena insisted on drawing it and added a ginger-coconut milk bath and salt mixture she said Chase used for aching muscles and moisture.
Lucky guess on the muscle aches. Amanda smirked, gingerly stepping into, then settling in the sunken tub. She soaked mindlessly to the hum of the luxurious jets for almost an hour before getting dressed and leaving. How was Chase able to feel so energetic when she was so languid? A car dropped her off at home and she changed for work, even though her clothes were clean. Wearing the same outfit two days in a row screamed “hussy,” at least in this case. Driving to the Creek, she decided she didn’t want to think any more about Chase’s proposition for the time being. She still had more questions, wanted other things more clearly defined. Like would it now turn into a caveman open season? Was he one step from dragging her around by her hair?
She got into work early and went about her usual business, blessedly mundane things that she could focus on. Tasks that were mindless because she’d been doing them for years. Eric and Nicki arrived forty-five minutes later, but not with the tomfoolery they usually exhibited with each other. Eric came in first. Amanda looked up from her linen order expecting to see Nicki following right behind him, or at the very least expecting to get a hello, but Eric went directly behind the bar and put on his apron, yanking on the strings a bit as he tied it.
“Nicki come in with you?” Amanda asked.
“Yeah,” Eric said in disgust, grabbing the bin to start his routine of getting ice from the machine in the kitchen for the coolers at the bar. “She’s having a cigarette, ’cause that’s how those Hollywood actresses stay thin.”
That was random. “Nicki went back to smoking?”
Nicki came in the door and Eric immediately went into the back. Nicki plopped down on the barstool next to Amanda’s and began digging around in her purse.
“You’re smoking again?” Amanda asked.
Nicki gave a shrug while popping the Tic Tacs she’d been looking for. “I never completely quit. I sometimes grab a few when I’m stressed.”
“You’re stressed?”
“I wasn’t until yesterday,” Nicki jeered, then said loudly, “And I shouldn’t be now!”
Eric came from the kitchen with the bin full of ice, and Nicki promptly went into the ladies’ room. Eric muttered something under his breath. This didn’t resemble the being-able-to-work-together policy at all.
“I hate to be a jerk about this,” Amanda said, getting right to the point. “But you guys assured me you’d be able to keep it professional. If there’s an issue we have to work out, I’d rather it gets done before we have customers.”
“There won’t be any issue. We won’t be working together anymore,” he said curtly, throwing the ice all around the cooler.
“Don’t even kid,” Amanda said flippantly.
Eric stopped what he was doing to stare at his boss, demonstrating how serious he was. Amanda began to frown as Nicki came out of the bathroom. Eric went back to dealing with the ice after giving a wave in Nicki’s direction. “She can tell you all about it.” He took the bin and went back into the kitchen, while Nicki rubbed the side of her nose purposefully with her middle finger.
Amanda looked at Nicki and said, “Somebody better start telling me something.”
Nicki took a deep breath and extended her middle finger right at the kitchen door before saying, “I guess there’s never an easy way to do this.”
Amanda, like all good employers, knew what usually followed an opening like that. “You got another job?” she asked, trying to be supportive. She knew it was never supposed to be permanent, but she would miss Nicki. Working with a friend had been fun.
“I’m moving to California,” Nicki blurted out excitedly.
Amanda was equally excited after her initial surprise. “Did you get a gig?”
Nicki crossed into rehashing the argument as she must have presented it to herself. “I have an audition for a pilot with USA Network. But more than that, I made a connection. Well, a connection’s connection. The pilot’s a long shot but some extra work rolls through this woman’s agency. At the very least, she knows a restaurant that will hire me when I get there. I have to try. I really feel like I have to take the chance.”
“Of course you do!” Amanda enthusiastically agreed. It was thrilling to watch people take risks, even if she was leery to take any herself. Nicki was always willing to work hard; she deserved to try to make her dream happen. “You can work as many hours as you want before you leave. Do you know how fast you’re going to make the move?”
Eric came out of the kitchen glowering, and Nicki snorted in anger. “That’s the hard part. Seems my roommate is a real buzzkill and doesn’t want to let me out of my lease.”
Amanda sat between Eric and Nicki as they stared each other down. Was Amanda the only one to see that this was about more than a roommate moving? Or was she starting to see everything with romantic overtones? Eric dumped another bin of ice and said, “I told you, get a suitable roommate to replace you and you can do whatever you want.”
Nicki made a face at him and then spat dramatically, “Remember that flaw you told me about before, Amanda? I think I found Eric’s. He’s a monkey-wrench-throwing motherfucker!”
Amanda was grateful they were busy shooting daggers at each other. Now was not the time to inform Nicki or anyone else that she had discovered Chase’s fatal flaw. But damn if Nicki dropping the f-bomb wasn’t an instant and blush-inducing reminder.
Eric and Nicki did maintain a cordial picture as they worked that evening. Amanda would’ve given more thought about what they would do once they had to go back to the same apartment after work, but as Chase’s estimated arrival time drew closer, all her thoughts centered on him. As soon as he came through the door, her excitement gave way to shyness after the first initial rush that seeing him provided. The way he looked at her now held a different type of warmth, the supersecret kind. She didn’t want to ask him any more questions; she just wanted to get back to feeling his hands all over her. She left Eric and Nicki to duke it out and retired for the night after the last customer left. They could make up or lock up. She hoped they would consider doing both.
IN THE END, AMANDA STAYED. At first it was under the guise of Chase’s challenge that subm
itting to him could actually be enjoyable. And it was. She liked it a lot. When she surrendered all her control, the result was the most intense freedom. She could put all her fears, worries, and decisions into his strong, powerful hands, and he took them willingly. From across his knees, she was released from all her anxiety. It was amazingly cathartic, but still left her conflicted. His reward had to be greater, because he was still a man, and a spoiled one at that. But she couldn’t quite find the words to question him about it without becoming tongue-tied. And he was so comfortable with it. There were no secrets from his past he was tortured by, no deep-seated desire to abuse women hidden behind his long list of good deeds and magnetic smile. He genuinely saw his role as her protector and was a natural at it. She knew there would never be anybody she could ever trust enough to confide in about her newfound fetish, as much for her sake as for his. He’d asked her to keep it to herself, and that wouldn’t be a problem. She didn’t even know exactly how to share it with him, much less anyone else.
Now that Chase no longer had to concern himself with the outcome, he came in contact with her bottom whenever he could. His rascal-like quality was sent into overdrive and it made him all the more lovable. He was a real ass man, and she wondered how he’d been able to conceal it as long as he had. It became a veritable world series of pats, swats, and grabs whenever he was presented with a really clear opportunity. But those opportunities were rare, since there always seemed to be someone in their space. In public they were always proper. Discretion really cut into their fun time.
She waited for him to become an unofficial dictator, ordering her around and forcing her to see his way on any and all things. But that never happened. It was quite the opposite. Chase doted on her in every way possible. He gave no indication he wanted to run her life any more or less than he had before. He valued her opinion and didn’t always have to be right. If he had strong feelings on a topic, however, she better be able to sway him. That was the hitch: If he said no and he meant it, he expected her to abide by it. Not doing so resulted in ramifications that were quick, effective, and came with the voice. She wanted to avoid that.
But he rarely said no. He was usually so indulgent, she felt childish for not going along with him. The pedestal that he put her on was high, and he still was able to shine down on her from it. In turn, she wanted to make him happy. But what do you give the man who has everything, including the ability to make a woman willingly submit to corporal punishment?
“I just hired a manager,” Amanda told him one evening when he came to pick her up.
“A very wise decision.” He couldn’t help beaming.
“I’m glad you think so,” she replied. “Since you’re the one trying so hard to get me to leave the place, it’s only fair you pay half his salary.”
“Angel, I’ll pay all of it. Best money I ever spent.”
She originally was going to hire Liam to take over for Nicki, but he was just so skilled. And the former NYU graduate had such panache. It was a good fit that seemed to come at the right time. He walked in off the street within an hour of Amanda placing the ad online. Nicki was still making her arrangements but took immediate time off to make her West Coast audition and check out the lay of the land. Amanda put Liam on the books the day they interviewed. He worked well with Eric, who looked a little too pleased as the weeks wore on and Nicki struggled to find Eric a roommate, working almost all her regular hours when she returned.
Amanda continued to work when Chase was in town, but she went on the road with him more. They began to play their own kinky versions of beer-swilling games, started innocently enough when he came into the Creek and she bought him a beer, ordering his postgame favorite, Heineken.
“Give him a Heiney, Eric,” she said, smiling at Chase, delighting in the coincidence.
From that moment on, whenever the word in any format or context was mentioned, they would share a quick look and have a brief stare-down. She started dropping words with intentional double meanings—words like discipline, punish, and disobedient, words Chase immediately picked up on, no matter how innocuously she introduced them. “That’s a punishing rain, don’t you think?” she would ask . They were always said in public but never directly connected to avoid drawing attention. Amanda presented a gracious and reserved picture. It was the way she was raised. She was generally more of an observer and still getting used to the attention. So she got to work on her timing, which was excellent. But she never under any circumstances could bring herself to say the word spank.
Sometimes Chase forced her to say it by refusing to do it until she did; a sensual power struggle he was certain he’d win, and for which they would both be rewarded.
SHE WENT BACK TO DOING research, this time not about him, but them. And the amount of information to be found was mind-boggling. There were videos, chat rooms, and stories written about role-playing, age-playing, and domestic discipline. People had parties to meet and greet. There were entire communities dedicated to it. Some of it was frightening at first. People told stories with corresponding photos of being tied up and essentially whipped with all sorts of implements, leaving welts, cuts, and bruises. Some took it a step further and introduced additional body parts to the mix. Others got trussed up and shackled to contraptions. There were videos with sessions lasting extended periods of time. Chase was nothing like any of that, but came closest to the domestic stuff. And he didn’t like it when she cried, even when that was his intention. When she started crying, the spanking was over. What she found was, when they were doing it for fun, she could take a lot before actually crying. She tried throwing in some role-play scenarios, and while he admired her braided pigtails, the little plaid skirt, the white button-down blouse with the matching cotton panties and knee socks, he much preferred being Chase Walker to a strict high school principal.
Who wouldn’t?
“CHASE? WHAT EXACTLY IS TOPPING from the bottom?” Amanda asked him one afternoon, a few weeks later while he was driving to drop her off at work before heading to the stadium.
He took his eyes off the road for just a moment and cast an amused sideways glance in her direction. “Doing a little more homework, were we?”
“Trying to,” she said, “but a lot of it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Probably because it doesn’t pertain to you,” he told her. “We’re making our own rules, angel, you should know that by now.”
“Does that mean you aren’t going to tell me?” She huffed, leaning her arm along his on the center console and her head on his shoulder.
He chuckled a little before kissing the top of her head and humoring her. “Topping from the bottom is an S and M phrase, as you probably know from whatever mischief you’ve been up to. It’s used by insecure doms who don’t know how to handle a sub who’s always looking for some attention. It’s when they accuse their subs of trying to control the action or the dynamic of the relationship.”
“Sounds like you’re not big on the concept.”
“You’re not my sub, you’re my girlfriend. And I’m no insecure dom, having to battle you for control. You have a mind of your own, I think you should use it every chance you get. You’re all I think about when I’m not on the field, so it’s safe to say you have my full attention. Not only can I give you everything, I want to. There’s only one rule, act like a lady, which you already do. If you want me to spank you, all you have to do is ask me. And if I think you’ve earned one, there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I thought we went over this?”
Amanda waited a few moments, staring at the dashboard before quietly asking, “But what if I don’t want to ask?”
Chase chuckled again. “How about just give me a hint?”
She didn’t answer him and tried unsuccessfully to hold back the sigh. Either he was being dense on purpose, to partake in one of his particular forms of enjoyment, watching her fumble while trying to talk about it, or he really didn’t understand her conundrum. There were times when she made it all about him—she
wasn’t putting on nurse and school-girl uniforms for her own enjoyment, although she certainly didn’t mind. But there was an indescribable excitement that came from watching him get all worked up and react, knowing she was the only one with the ability to make him. It took the intimacy of their relationship to a whole new level, pushing him just far enough for him to go from doting to domineering, minus the voice, of course. If he was really upset with her and he used the voice, it would take all the fun out of it and she’d end up miserable. Occasionally, it was so much more rewarding to tease him into it, just short of making him mad. That certainly seemed to qualify as topping from the bottom. If she was going to embrace the lifestyle, shouldn’t she be getting it right? Would she blow her chance at happiness by being a bad fit for an alpha male? Even in the air-conditioned car, thinking about it suddenly made her backside feel warm and tingly.
“I can practically hear your brain working,” Chase mused into her ear, and the warmth increased just a bit, radiating slightly onto her thighs. “It’s my job to know what you need, and you’re a pretty easy read. It’s all about control for you. You can’t stand the thought of relinquishing it, but because you trust me, you don’t mind my stripping you of it. I fully realize the sacrifice you make by giving it up to me.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or sincere. You don’t think this has anything to do with you challenging your own control?”
“As soon as I lay my eyes on you it challenges my control. But I have to be in control at all times or I could hurt you. It’s taxing enough that you’re practically insatiable.”
If he thought he was being cute, it didn’t translate. In fact, it irked her. “You make that sound like you’re doing me a favor. I don’t appreciate it. My sex life was fine before you got involved.”
His Jag came up to a stoplight, and he nearly slammed on the brakes. His right hand white-knuckled the steering wheel and his left hand swept across his chest, his face tight with anger, all playfulness gone. He pointed a deliberate finger at her. “Hey. We had a deal. We don’t talk about the people we’ve touched in the past. I admit I’m a possessive savage. Don’t ever talk about another man touching you again. It makes me see red.”
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