by Brenna Zinn
“I’m not sure what you mean.” A heavy apprehension spread through Emma like thick, black tar. Was she that transparent? Were her feelings so evident that even a pothead secretary could see them?
“Your aura is dark gray mixed with a kinda mustardy-looking color. I’ve seen these colors together just a few times.” Stephanie tilted her head, regarding Emma with a thoughtful look. “Did something scare you recently?”
Heart skipping a beat, Emma took a step back and bumped into the desk. “What a strange thing to say.”
“Not really. Not when you consider that your dark-gray aura is like the color for fear and brownish-yellow color signifies a lack of ease. In the times I’ve seen an aura like this, the person had some scary shit or horrific event happen.” She plopped down in a nearby chair and sat back, clearly making herself comfortable for a long conversation. “So what happened last night? What scared you?”
Emma mentally shook her head. If only she knew for sure. After tossing and turning in bed as the storm waged war outside and her head and heart duked it out over her decision to have lunch with Chet, she’d dug through a box in the bathroom for her sleeping pills. With the stress of getting the teaching job at the college and then buying the house and moving, she hadn’t slept well in weeks.
She had desperately needed rest, especially if she intended to function with any kind of brain activity the next day. Though the expiration date on the bottle was over three years old, she’d taken two pills. She’d worked too hard and come too far crawling out of the hole her ex-husband had dug her in to let a lack of sleep or an outdated prescription keep her from doing well in her new position.
After returning to bed, her sleep had been restless. Throughout the night she’d heard strange, terrifying sounds. Several times she would have sworn she’d heard women’s voices speaking, crying or calling out her name. And what sounded like kitchen cabinet doors slamming and then loud thumps on the stairs could be heard over the roar of the rain hitting the roof.
The one time she’d had the nerve to open her eyes, a transparent black fog in the rough form of a body appeared to be hovering in a corner of her room. Despite the panicked horror filling her every nerve ending with adrenaline, Emma couldn’t move. She couldn’t scream. Before she knew what was happening, she woke to bright sunlight streaming through the bank of windows in her bedroom.
The black fog, the creepy talking and the eerie sounds had to have been a dream or brought on by the expired sleeping pills. They had to have been. There was no other logical explanation.
“Something scared you last night?”
So completely lost in her thoughts, Emma started when she heard Chet’s voice. Wearing faded jeans and an untucked short-sleeve shirt that showcased his bronzed muscular arms, Chet leaned against the doorframe to her office.
Like a well-trained pet, her body responded to the sight of him. Immediately her heart raced and her belly tightened. Lower still, her pussy softened with warm cream at the promise of pain and pleasure she knew he could deliver.
When she’d agreed to meet him for activities outside the dungeon, she hadn’t guessed at how much authority he truly wielded over her. Without his having to speak a word, she was prepared to do his bidding, take his command, allow him to take control. The realization, both terrifying and thrilling, nearly shook her to her knees.
Stephanie popped from the chair, her eyes as wide as flying saucers, the instant she noticed Chet standing in the doorway. She stuck out her hand, which trembled with such intensity it was a wonder her many rings stayed on her fingers.
“Hello,” she managed, though her voice cracked like a teenage boy going through puberty. “I’m Stephanie O’Donald, the math department secretary.”
Emma held back a groan. As usual, Chet’s good looks and magnetism had attracted another woman. With so many to choose from, why he would want to settle on a plain vanilla someone like herself was beyond comprehension. He could have anyone, including the most beautiful woman on campus. Surely it was only a matter of time before he caved in to temptation or tired of her. His leaving her or, worse yet, cheating on her was inevitable.
Wasn’t it?
Chet strode into the room, his blue eyes alive with amusement, and shook hands with the gypsy secretary. “I’m Chet. Nice to finally meet you. Emma’s told me a lot about you.”
A pink flush bloomed on Stephanie’s cheeks. After a considerable number of hand pumps, Chet placed his free hand on their entwined right hands, stopping further shaking. “You were saying something about Emma’s aura,” he said, carefully prying Stephanie’s fingers from his.
“Oh for sure. I mean, look at her.” Stephanie pointed her thumb in Emma’s direction. “Her aura is so gray, it could be charcoal. Something seriously frightening happened to her recently.”
Attention zeroing in on Emma, Chet asked, “This frightening thing doesn’t happen to be about me and our discussion last night, does it?”
“No.” Emma crossed her arms to hide the goose bumps flaring on her exposed skin. Just thinking about the unsettling evening alone at her house caused her flesh to crawl. “I heard some strange noises while I was in bed, that’s all. I couldn’t sleep so I took some sleeping pills. I think a lot of what I heard was my drug-induced imagination.”
“Noises, huh? How totally cool is that?” Excitement lit up Stephanie’s round face. “Do you think you have ghosts in your house? Did anyone die there?”
Emma glanced at Chet. Eyebrows pitched high on his forehead, he clearly appeared interested in knowing the answers as well. Unfortunately the truth was something she’d tried to forget the second the realtor had disclosed the information. “The woman who owned the house before I bought it died there. Based on the very little information the agent provided, I’d guess the previous home owner had suffered a massive heart attack.”
“Really?” Stephanie’s voice raised at least two octaves. “Was she old? In bad health? Where did they find her? Was she naked?”
The rapid-fire questions made Emma’s head swim. Since finding out about the former owner’s untimely demise, gory visions of what the death scene might have looked like plagued Emma and had nearly convinced her to pass up the excellent deal offered by the dead woman’s parents.
“I don’t know all the details.” Emma swallowed an uncomfortable lump in her throat. “I just know she was young and died suddenly.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Chet asked, his voice tinged with worry.
“Because it doesn’t matter. The house was an incredible steal, and I don’t believe in ghosts. Any person in their right mind would have done the same thing.”
“I can’t agree with you there,” he countered. “Didn’t you mention the house had been on the market for several years?”
It had. Despite the excellent condition and the below-market price, the house had sat empty for over five years.
Rising irritation bubbled within Emma like a tea kettle on a low-burning flame. Did she really need to defend herself and her decisions to the crazy department secretary and the man who was supposed to be around only for sex? This was her home and her life. She’d worked like a madwoman, scrimping and saving to pay her way through college and come up with a down payment to have something of her own. Damned if a woman’s death would keep her from making her dream of owning her own home a reality.
Before Emma could respond, Stephanie closed her eyes and placed both index fingers on her temples. “I’m getting some serious, wicked vibes about all of this, but there’s too much weird tension in the air between you two to see clearly. Everything seems dark and distant.” Then, as though slapped in the face, her eyes flew open. Head turning back and forth between Chet and Emma, Stephanie shot them both an accusatory stare. Mumbling something under her breath, the crazed secretary shook her head and made her way out of the office.
Chet gestured with his thumb to the doorway. “Does she do that often?”
“Unfortunately, yes. She thi
nks she’s a sensitive or psychic. I try not to encourage her, but she’s her own little force of nature. I may as well be trying to stop the wind from blowing.” Emma opened a drawer to her desk and removed her purse. She sucked in a breath to calm the pulse pounding in her ears. She was really going through with spending time with her Dom outside the safety of a dungeon. If she could remind herself to just act normal, not submit to his spoken commands while doing something like eating a meal, she might actually live through this afternoon without embarrassing either of them.
“Wait.” Chet caught her arm as she tried to slide by him without actually touching him. “I’d like to know what happened last night after I left.”
The warm sensation of his hand on her skin sent a bolt of charged electricity through her system. Desire, raw and untamed, fought with schooled sensibility. Her rational thinking mind reminded of the consequences for giving in to carnal needs. Taking off her clothes and fucking her Dom in her newly acquired office could equal losing her job and permanently screwing her future.
But the lascivious yearnings flowing in her blood like a strong hit of opium pulled her to take chances. Throw caution to the wind and glorify in the moment. Ripping his nice shirt from his body and pulling off his jeans would be so satisfying. As would falling to her knees and taking his cock in her mouth.
If he commanded her to do it, would she be able to resist?
“Emma,” Chet persisted, “tell me.”
“I heard voices. Female voices. Some cried or whispered garbled words. A few times I thought I heard my name being called.” She waved him off. “I’m sure I was overly tired and my mind was playing tricks on me.”
“Is that all?” His keen eyes assessed her. “I want to know everything.”
Unable to face him, as though by doing so she was admitting a belief in the paranormal, Emma turned her gaze to the bookshelf lining one wall. “I also heard footsteps on the staircase and saw—” She drew in another calming breath, wishing she could erase the memory from her mind. “I saw a black—oh I don’t even know what it was. It looked like a black shadow in my room.”
“That’s it. This afternoon I’m calling to make an appointment to have a security system put in your house.”
Emma’s back stiffened. “I don’t need it and I can’t afford it.”
“You do need it and I’m paying for everything. It’s not as though I can’t afford it.” Chet sighed and his shoulders fell. “Please, Emma. Let me do this. Taking care of you means a lot to me. Consider it another housewarming gift. A housewarming gift that will let me sleep without worrying about your safety.”
“But you already bought the Y-table for the dungeon. You’re doing too much.”
Chet rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that what this is about? Me doing too much? Me getting too close?”
Reaching up, Emma stroked Chet’s stubbled jaw. “Baby steps, remember?”
“I’ll baby step my relationship with you until the Cubs win the pennant,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “But I won’t back down on getting an alarm put in your house. Especially knowing you’re hearing things and you saw something in your bedroom.”
As much as she would like to continue arguing the point, a part of her melted at Chet’s insistence on keeping her safe. He was patiently expanding his role as her Dom. Her protector.
After last night’s frightening experience, maybe having a bit of protection wasn’t such a bad idea.
Chapter Three
Chet stood on the wood stairs leading from Emma’s pantry to her basement and stared at the flathead screwdriver in his hand. He really should have Emma take a picture of him installing her dimmer switch. Without proof, his father would never believe he’d actually held a tool, let alone used one. Hell, he could hardly believe he was doing manual labor himself.
He pulled out the last screw from his pocket, carefully attached the head to the screwdriver, and then placed the tip in the remaining hole in the switch faceplate. A silly sense of pride and accomplishment washed over him as he finished the job.
It’s only a dimmer switch. You’re not building the fucking Eiffel Tower.
Still, as the once spoiled and lazy son of a wealthy engineer, Chet was happy to have started and completed this simple task—another example of how Emma had helped turn his life around. The blonde beauty with eyes greener than the lawn from his native Kentucky home was his motivation, his muse. She made him want to be a better man. A better Dom. One worthy of such an incredible, intelligent woman.
Giving up my crazy partying lifestyle was easy once she came along. I don’t miss those days at all.
The realization of just how much the last eight months had changed him hit Chet like a sledgehammer. He had been a Dom for only a few years before Cleo introduced him to Emma. At the time he mistakenly thought his role was simply to provide the right stimulation to get his subs off and have them comply with his authority. Hell, it wasn’t as if there was a Dom for Idiots book he could read. He was in the middle of Illinois, not exactly the Mecca for BDSM. He had to pick up information as he muddled his way through.
And then Emma came along. Though she played the part of a calm, rational mathematician well, deep inside she was vulnerable. Her life in chaos. She needed a safe place where she didn’t have to think, where someone provided the direction, discipline and comfort she sought in her day-to-day life. From the moment he started working with Emma, he’d taken such pleasure in caring for her. Giving her whatever she needed to feel whole, even if only for a few short hours. Since Emma, he ached to please his sub. The ache had only intensified as time passed.
Now he wanted more than just their dungeon play. So much more.
He was close to breaking through her tough shell. All he needed was more time and some patience.
“All done?”
Chet turned at the sound of Emma’s voice behind him. The remarkable vision was enough to make a man thank God for creating women.
Sunlight from the kitchen windows backlit Emma’s shapely form, highlighting her blonde hair and tanned skin in a golden glow. The tops of her rounded breasts played peek-a-boo behind her low-cut, strappy top that did a hell of a job hugging the curve of her waist. Tight cut-off jean shorts showed off the length of her toned legs, not to mention the beckoning slit just below the zipper.
And then there was her face. Sweet, smiling and more than a bit innocent. She might be six years his senior, but the sight of Emma evoked a need to protect her. As her Dom, he’d always look out for her physical and emotional needs in the dungeon. Care for her better than she would care for herself.
If only she’d let me be there for her all the time.
“Finishing up.” Chet took the beer she handed him and pushed back the heavy metal door separating the pantry from the once hidden entryway to the basement. A strange, cold tingle nagged at him. Why would anyone want to have a secret dungeon in such an ordinary-looking house?
Brushing the thought aside, he sat down on the top step in the doorway and patted the narrow space beside him. “Come join me while I drink this. I’ll give you a light show.”
Without a word, she complied with his request and squeezed beside him. After situating herself, she tossed her head, flipping the long, honey-colored locks over her shoulder with practiced ease. The motion stirred the air with the clean, slightly floral scent of her hair. The intoxicating smell teased his senses and twisted his gut with a longing to keep her near.
If they were more than play partners, he’d put his arm around her and place her head on his chest, just so he could be closer. Breathe in more of her. Give her the protection and stability he knew she needed.
Doing so now, before she was ready to trust him and take their relationship to the next level, would confuse her more. Possibly provoke her to push him away, creating even more distance between them. Best to give her space.
But when you’re ready, I’ll be here. I just hope it’s soon.
“Cheers.” Emma tapped th
e top of her beer bottle with his. “You certainly do know how to charm a lady. First take her to a fabulous lunch, then come home with her to do odd jobs.”
“I’ll admit lunch at the Union was pretty glamorous and romantic. There’s something special about having food slapped onto a plate by an overweight, middle-aged woman in a hairnet that really sets the mood.”
“That and standing in line with a plastic lime-green tray,” she added, playing along. “If only there could have been more sweaty jocks talking loudly at the table next to ours. Nothing like the smell of body odor to make a person want to gobble down a bowl of greasy mac and cheese.”
“True. So true. But the next time we go out to eat, I say we go whole hog. You know, really pull out all the stops. Maybe Applebee’s.”
“Applebee’s, huh? I’m not sure if I’ve got clothes fancy enough to wear there.”
Their effortless banter confirmed what Chet already knew. He could easily love Emma.
All the partying in the world couldn’t replicate the high she produced in him. And he certainly would never be bored with her. Even if they did little more than sit together like this and share funny stories, he’d be satisfied. Truly satisfied. Anything more would be icing on an already perfect cake.
“So having lunch with me turned out not so bad after all?” Chet drew in a long sip of beer and swallowed, watching for her reaction from the corner of his eye. “Be careful how you answer. I may hit you with an invitation to go bowling or even ask you out to watch grass grow if you don’t play your cards right.”
Like amber polished to a brilliant shine, her hazel eyes sparkled. “Despite the tasteless meatloaf and the noisy football players, I actually had a great time. Spending the hour talking with you and getting to know you better was very enjoyable. When we’re playing out our roles, I don’t get to see how funny and intelligent you are. It’s kind of strange shifting into friend mode.”