by Corgan, Sky
I make my way to the front door. When I ring the doorbell, an older gentleman—the party's host, Larry—promptly comes to greet me. He smiles and we exchange pleasantries as he leads me into the living room where a few other lifestylers are sitting around having a conversation. To my disappointment, all of the Doms brought their submissives with them. The only person not paired off is Larry, and he's not my type at all. Close to twice my age, thin and bald. His smile is a bit too broad and toothy. The corners of his eyes are lined with crow's feet. Definitely not my type.
To make matters worse, everyone already seems to know everyone else. For the sake of politeness, they ask me some basic get-to-know-you questions, then I fall into silence as they continue their conversation around me, talking about events they've attended, scenes they've seen, and people they all know. Every once in a while, I'll chime in with a story from Utah, but they seem more interested in their own world, and eventually I withdraw socially, turning into a wallflower—listening but not speaking.
This may be a play party, but there's certainly not a lot of play going on. I can hear a couple in one of the bedrooms, the sound of leather hitting skin and the occasional cry of pain. Normally, that would be enough to turn me on. I feel too damn awkward though. All I want is to escape, but I don't want to ruin the boys' night by coming home early.
The doorbell rings and my ears perk with hope that it might be someone of interest. That's probably too much to ask for, though. More than likely, it's another Dom/sub pair who know the others here.
I hear male voices approaching, which means nothing to me at first. If there's a female submissive with them, she'll probably remain silent out of respect for her Dom and the host. But then the pitch of the other male voice begins to sound familiar, and by the time my brain matches a face to it, the two men have entered the living room.
My lips couldn't sink further into a scowl if I used my fingers to force them down. My eyes instantly narrow at the new addition to the group, and I feel about five hundred times more out of place than I did before. I stayed away from Club Fet to avoid this asshole, and now he's here. What the bloody fuck?!
Holden pauses for half a second when he sees me, then he smirks, an expression full of wicked amusement. There's nothing sexual about it. Nothing pleasant either.
“I didn't expect to see you here.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his slacks, stopping to tower over me. I imagine that he means to intimidate me. All I want to do is punch him square in the balls.
“Likewise,” I grumble, refusing to move over to make room for him on the sofa.
To my surprise, he claims what little space is there, wedging himself between me and another submissive, which forces us both to scoot down. For the briefest of seconds, I think about finding another seat, but I won't give him the pleasure of thinking he's displaced me.
Thankfully, he goes straight to ignoring me, seamlessly integrating himself into the conversation. They know him. All of them know him. All of them seem to like him. That means these people aren't my friends.
“So, Piper, how goes the job hunt?” Holden turns to me abruptly. The question sounds so casual, like he knows that I've been actively looking for another job. It pisses me off.
“What ever do you mean?” I use my best clueless voice.
“You remember how I said I was going to do a background check on you?”
An unpleasant feeling snakes through my stomach and up into the back of my throat, though I quickly swallow it down. There's nothing on my background check. At least, there shouldn't be. I wouldn't put it past him to bring up something trivial like the fact that I went to truancy court when I was a teenager. I'm pretty sure that he'll grasp at any straw he can to get rid of me.
“I'm sure that you were more than disappointed in your findings.” I settle back against the sofa, trying to appear like I don't give a shit about anything he has to say to me.
“Actually, I was quite impressed.” He twists around to face me, which makes me groan internally. This probably means that he wants to have a full conversation. I should have left when he was talking to everyone else.
“Oh? Does that mean you're going to drop the subject of me working for your mother?” I know better than to believe that. While I can't read his tone entirely, I do detect traces of sarcasm.
“Why would I do that?” He tilts his head. “We both know you're not going to be working for her for very long. There's no need to pretend otherwise.”
I roll my eyes. “I don't know that. But you certainly seem to think that you know everything.”
“I know that you have a BA in accounting. I know that you recently moved here and that working for my mother is the first job you've had since you came back.”
Anger bubbles up inside of me at what he's implying, surging out to my extremities to fill me with heat. “So it is.”
He leans into me suddenly, so close that his cologne practically smacks me in the face. If I didn't hate him so much, I might be enticed by it. He smells good. There's no doubt about that. Right now, though, I don't want to smell him. I don't want to be anywhere near him.
“I've got a little business proposition for you,” he whispers.
“Not interested.”
“Oh, but I think you would be if you just heard me out.”
In my peripheral vision, I can see his eyes scrolling up my body. I shudder from the look he's giving me, and I begin to wonder if I'm wrong about what his proposition entails. There's something very sexual about the way he's interacting with me right now. And while I despise him, I can't help but feel a stirring deep inside.
“I'm not interested in hearing you out.” I stand before addressing the rest of the party. "I'm going to be leaving now. You guys have a good rest of your night."
Holden seems perplexed for a moment, but he quickly gets up to walk me to the door. I turn before he has a chance to follow me out, placing my hand on his chest. Just touching the front of his suit does something to me, something I don't like. Why does he have to keep getting so close.
“I don't need you to walk me out.” I can't even look at him when I speak.
“Of course, you don't. I'm just being a gentleman.”
As I walk to my car, my conscience echoes that nothing good will come of this. Whether his proposition is sexual or otherwise, I can't accept it. I can't allow him to win in any way.
“What do you want?” I spin around to face him when I reach my vehicle.
He's standing in the street, looking cool and composed as he gazes down at the silent neighborhood. The stars sparkle in the sky behind him, making him look like a model. My heart skips a beat as I think about how devastatingly handsome he is...and how devastating. He can't be trusted. Whatever he asks of me, the answer has to be no.
“You could use a better set of wheels.” He glances down at my car and frowns.
“Did you really come out here just to insult my car?” I place a hand on my hip, instantly pissed off.
Considering that it wasn't here when I arrived and that it's the nicest car on the street, I can take a shot in the dark that the new black Ferrari is his. Of course, he'd think that my old Buick Regal is a piece of shit. He can buy a new car whenever he wants. I've had this car since I started driving. Sure, it has a few dents and scratches, and a little bit of hail damage on the roof, but it also has character. And it's mine. Screw him for belittling it.
“No.” He takes a deep breath. “I came out here to see what it will take to make you quit working for my mother.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course, you did. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but as I said, not interested.” I dig my keys out of my purse. By the time I find them, he's standing a lot closer. So close that I'm startled by the heat radiating from him.
“I told you that I can make you interested,” his voice is as smooth as silk, making me feel things that I hate. It's amazing how some men have that power—to do things to you with just their voice. It's manipulation. A lot of busi
nessmen are trained to speak in such a way that it commands attention. “I can write you a check right now. It can be,” he hesitates, “enough to replace this.” He taps the hood of my car with his fist, and all of my poise goes out the window.
I jab my finger into his chest. The certainty in his eyes fades for a moment, and I take great pleasure in the thought that I rattled him. “What in the fuck is your problem with my car? Have you ever thought that maybe I don't want a new car? Maybe I like what I'm driving. We don't all need new toys, Holden.”
He takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “You can use the money on whatever you want. It doesn't have to be on a new car.”
“It wouldn't be, you dick. Because poor people have more important shit to spend money on than new cars when their old ones are perfectly fine.”
“There's no need to get hostile.” He drops his hands to his sides.
“Apparently, there is. Because you see what this is?” I gesture to the space between us. “This is you harassing me. This is you trying to bribe me to leave a job that I actually enjoy.
“You know what, you can keep your money. You couldn't put enough zeros on that check to make me sell you the satisfaction of knowing you won.” I jam the key into the lock and open my car door. The second that I do, Holden pushes it back closed.
“Where do you think you're going?” He arches a perfect eyebrow.
“That's none of your damn business.”
“Guys, can you keep it down? We can hear you arguing all the way inside,” Larry's voice calls out to us from the house.
Guilt surges through me, but more than that, anger. I'm so done with this.
“Sorry,” I yell back, realizing that I'm still being too loud but not caring. “I was just leaving.”
Larry doesn't respond. He simply disappears back inside.
For a moment, I think about blaming Holden for getting us in trouble, but that would just spark another argument.
I glare at him as I open my car door. Again, he pushes it closed.
“What's the big idea?” I step up to him, getting right in his face. He doesn't look the least bit scared of my flaming temper.
“You're going to Club Fet, aren't you?”
“As I said, that's none of your business. You will let me get in my car. Or I will call the police and tell them that you're harassing me.”
“Is that so?” He doesn't sound the least bit intimidated by my threat.
“That is so.” I sink back, looking down at my keys to find the right one. In my frustration, I balled my hand into a fist, pressing my keys together and getting them mixed up.
“Are you going to be looking for a sub at Club Fet?” He starts to lean against my car, then stops, perhaps not wanting to dirty his suit.
“Why would I be looking for a sub?” I locate the key to my ignition, then pull open my car door. Holden is still standing too close for me to open it all the way. I give him a sarcastic look. “Move.”
“You're a Domme, right? I mean, you don't seem to have a submissive bone in your body,” his tone turns conversational.
“I don't submit to assholes.” A sarcastic smile spreads across my lips and I yank my car door open with all of my strength. Holden moves just in time, and the door ends up smacking me in the hip instead.
I didn't think I could get any more upset, but when I hear the sound of his laughter, it's like every single cell in my body explodes with rage. It's so intense that I'm shaking, caught somewhere between wanting to cry and wanting to completely wail on him. He deserves to be physically assaulted, but if I attack him, he'll call the cops and he'll win. I have to remind myself that he's just trying to get under my skin...And it's working.
I have to leave. Have to get out of here. I'm about to do something that will not only jeopardize my job but also the boys. I can't afford to lose control.
Without another word, I bend to climb into my car. Holden is on me in an instant, pulling me back and closing my car door again. I'm so startled that I allow him to back me up against my car, to pin me there. Tears are gathering beneath the surface. I refuse to look at him, refuse to let him see that he's breaking me down.
“I can make you submit.” He reaches up a hand, and I flinch away, squeezing my eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling. The backs of his fingers whisper across my cheek. Then he cups my chin, tilting my face up.
“I hate you.” My voice is weak and pathetic.
“A lot of people hate me. But I still get what I want from them.”
Is that what is going to happen? The thought fills me with despair. He's already whittled me down so much. Part of me wants to tell him to give me a check and go away, not because I want the money, but because I don't want to have to deal with him anymore. Surely, the job isn't worth putting up with this much harassment.
My mind is going a million miles per hour. I'm trapped, suffocating, about to panic. I'm two seconds short of freaking out when I feel something that totally turns logic on its head.
Lips. His lips on mine. Kissing me. So hard.
I open my eyes and a muffled sound comes out, perhaps an objection. I can't really tell. And then my hands are on his chest trying to push him away.
It's like putting my weight against a brick wall. He doesn't budge. In fact, he just moves closer, hooking an arm around my waist.
The kiss deepens. His tongue darts out to taste my mouth. And then the sick realization hits me that I like this. I like the feel of his mouth on mine. I like that he's holding me so tightly. I'm not supposed to. I'm supposed to loathe the very thought of him putting his hands on me, but I don't. Something inside of me has snapped—the part that keeps me grounded. I don't know if I'm coming or going anymore. I don't know what's happening. All I do know is that he smells incredible and that his lips feel amazing pressed against mine.
Pull yourself together. Anyone will do tonight, but it can't be him. It can never be him. If you let him have this, he'll have won in every way that he can.
CHAPTER FIVE
HOLDEN
She's so fiery that I couldn't hold myself back any longer. The fight had faded from her eyes—a moment of weakness. A moment was all that I needed.
I knew from the second that I walked into Larry's house and saw her sitting on the sofa that I'd be able to break her down. It was a lucky coincidence that we both attended the same party. I needed to get her alone at some point, but I had never anticipated that she'd make it so easy for me.
When I offered her money to leave my mother's employment, I had fully expected her to take it. Who in their right mind would refuse a practically blank check? Especially someone who doesn't seem to be in the best place financially.
Full of surprises, this one. I'm not used to women being able to surprise me. Most of them are predictable and boring. Most people are that way. Not Piper. She's vibrant and confident and defiant.
I always get what I want though. Always. It's a lesson she'll have to learn the hard way. For now, however, my interest has shifted. I've stood outside in the summer heat, watching her glare at me and spit threats. Her anger amuses me, but her body inspires something else. As she speaks I watch her, silently undressing her with my eyes.
She hates me already. She could not hate me anymore if I kissed her. And I do so desperately wish to make her submit, to see complacency scrawled across that pretty face of hers. To know that I've won her over completely.
That fragile moment when I've pushed her to the edge, that's when I make my move. I taste her lips for the first time, feel the softness of them pressed against mine. Her breath recedes from the tiniest gasp, and I have to fight to suppress a wolfish grin. She places her hands on my chest, but she doesn't draw her head back. That means she likes the kiss. It means she wants to be kissed.
I slide my hand around the curvature of her waist, drawing her closer. Her tight little body feels heavenly against me, the firmness of her thighs. The suppleness of her breasts.
I trace my tongue acr
oss the seam of her lips, seeking entry. She doesn't give it immediately, so I tug gently at her waist, causing her to gasp again and taking the opportunity from it. It's then that she kisses me back, that I feel the first hint of affection from her.
She wraps an arm around me, her hand crawling up my back to the hair at the nape of my neck. As her nails trace up the skin there, I shudder, my arousal jumping to a whole new level. Her fingers tangle in my hair, and she draws me down to her, her lips working aggressively over mine. For a moment, I think she's trying to take control. I open my eyes to look at her, and she's glaring at me so wickedly. That's when I know I'm in trouble.
It's too late to back away. Even if I could, I'm not sure that I would. Pain hits me before my brain has a chance to fully process it. She sucks my bottom lip between her teeth and bites down hard. I hiss from the intense crushing sensation before my body reacts of its own accord, putting distance between us.
“Fuck!” I draw my hand up to my mouth, feeling the skin swell beneath my fingertips. “You bit me.”
“Did I mess up your pretty face?” her tone is mocking. She bends slightly, assessing the damage for herself. “Aww, I was hoping I drew blood.”
“I'm going to make you regret that.” I advance on her, grabbing her wrists and pinning her to the car.
“You've already made me regret a lot of things. That, however, I do not regret.”
My eyes rove over her face. Good God is she beautiful when she's pissed off. It makes me want to kiss her again. I know better, though. Instead, I push her wrists harder against the car. The slightest wince contorts her expression, but she hides her pain well.
“Are you done pitching a fit?” She smirks at me. “It looks like you're on the losing end of things tonight. Can't get me to take your money. Can't get me to quit my job. Can't get me to kiss you.”