When his cell phone rang he dashed off to take the call in private. She could hear him in the hallway arguing with someone as the conversation ebbed and flowed. She picked up bits and pieces, then nothing at all. When he finally returned, perhaps five minutes later, he’d calmed and the smile on his face was as filled with conceit and condescension as it had been when she arrived that day. Whatever had been disturbing him minutes ago seemed no longer troubling. If it still were, the disturbing thoughts were now tucked safely away.
“Busy day, Alexa,” he said, pleasantly. “The winery has had a good run in recent years, which is why I’m here. Why Nellis (the Tatum family attorney) insisted that I spend time getting to know the business.” While Luke seemed willing to carry on this blithe conversation with a female chained to the corner of the room, Alexa thought it absurd. Apparently he suddenly thought so, too. In a flash, he was at her side, disengaging the lock and the attaching chains so she could move back into the room.
“Go sit in the chair. We have business to take care of.”
“You mind if I dress?”
He looked at her unsure then shrugged. Whatever he had on his mind was obviously more important than whether she was clothed or not. She hurriedly scrambled for her shorts and top then sat in the chair, while Luke pulled out a side drawer and removed another file, a manila one he placed in the middle of the empty desk.
“Just a few things you need to do,” he said, as he pushed three single page documents and three sheets of blank paper to the front of the desk. “Copy the letters in your own hand on a blank sheet of paper. No need to make it pretty, in fact, it should look like you dashed them off in a hurry. I’ll take them to the post office in town in the morning.”
She looked at him perplexed. “Letters?”
“Yes. To your employer, your landlord and your best friend, Grace.” He picked up one of the typed versions, and read aloud: “An unexpected family problem requires that I immediately move across the country…yada yada…Sorry it’s such short notice… ” He looked up and continued with his explanation. “Included in the letter to your landlord are instructions for the disposal of your personal things. Grace will do you the favor of sorting out what’s tossed and what’s boxed up and sent to a New York address I’ve listed here. For the time being, it will be your official address. The letters should effectively dismantle your sorry little life and leave few questions.”
“Except for why I didn’t just call them to explain!” the stunned Alexa blurted out. She didn’t even want to address the fact that Luke had obviously dug into her current life enough to know who she’d need to contact. At this point deal, she couldn’t deal with the sorrow of giving up the life she created and never seeing her friends again.
“Don’t worry, I thought of that, too,” Luke smiled and pointed to the PS at the end of the letters, “Right here at the bottom where you apologize for the hastily handwritten note, you explain that you misplaced your cell phone and you’ve been in such a hurry to leave that you haven’t had the time to replace it. This was the best you could do. You’ll call once you’re settled.”
“And will I be doing that?”
“Probably not. I’ll decide later.”
“As easy as that,” she retorted.
“As easy as that,” and he followed with a big broad smile. “So, you just inch your way over here and dash these off like you only have a minute to finish.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You don’t, I’ll call Scotland Yard.” He rattled off the threat with breezy assurance, as if he called Scotland Yard every day. Then his lips curled into a snide smirk. “Yeah, what a call that would be. Can you imagine, after all these years finding the famed pianist’s missing daughter at a tiny winery in Northern California? That’s the stuff of sleazy TV movies, ripe food of tabloid journalists. I imagine the Hollywood press will pick up on it, too, don’t you think? Jackals that they are, they’ll ride this one for at least six months. Meanwhile, you’re being extradited, I’m sorrowfully dealing with the shock of my father’s shady schemes before glaring lights – turning charm to my advantage, of course – while you’re marched off to prison for murdering your father and fleeing from the scene of the crime.”
She didn’t even repeat her denial about the murder this time; it would only be ignored, as her other denials had been.
“This is what I do well,” he continued, “what I learned from my well-heeled upbringing, a near sociopath for a father and a scheming, narcissistic stepmom. Funny, you were the one wholesome thing I could point to, and you’re the one the world will condemn. Ironic, isn’t it? But I guess that’s the way life works. It’s not meant to be fair, so I don’t bother trying, and I won’t bother with you. If the old man taught me nothing else, he taught me how to manipulate the world with the clout of money, position, charm and good looks. A lot for a mere kid like me to manage, but you gotta admit, I’m holding my own.” He was proud and triumphant, but still getting used to those feelings and the power he wielded. Savoring the moment of victory, he pressed on, “And now to undo your present life so I can have you back where you belong.” His visage grew darker and his mood a little edgy. “Copy the letters, Alexa. Just like I told you.”
For just a moment she could hear a waver in his voice, but his expression remained hardened.
She watched him as he watched her, with Alexa wondering who would ‘blink’ first, though it quickly became clear that Luke had already won the battle and she would relent as she had in the past. He was firm. She was weak—understandable, given the unequal circumstances of their current relationship. And now the heart palpations, the queasy stomach, and the curious sexual desire that consumed her thoughts made her sexual body quake with fear and expectation – the last thing she needed now.
Did she have no shame? It was hard to admit, but the old wild girl was loving this in her own laughing, twisted way. Damn her! It sounded and felt like a scene from a dirty novel, a really kinky dirty novel.
At last she slid from the chair to the floor and made up the two foot distance to the front of the desk on her knees. She pulled up tight against it feeling the weight of her body press miserably on her knees with nothing to cushion them against the tile. Her hands shook as she picked up the pen and pulled the first letter and blank sheet forward.
“Word for word,” he prompted when she still seemed hesitant.
“Yes, sir,” she answered under her breath, and she began.
The words she copied from Luke’s draft were written in a deliberately style suggesting that he’d put some thought into what he wanted communicated, and how that message would be understood by the recipient. With these three brief letters, mere notes really, he slammed the doors to her other life with resounding finality, leaving a sinking feeling in her stomach and sadness in her heart – although it was not a sadness she would dwell on long. She’d clung tenaciously to her rebuilt life, but now the longing for that life was swept away by a steady stream of flashbacks from her previous tenure at the winery. They came to her unbidden, moving before her mind’s eye like pictures from a dream. But these were not dreams, not imagined but real events. The stuff of memory not imagination. They clicked off like an old fashioned slideshow; each fraught with sexual substance enough to have her crotch toasty and wet, and her psyche back in the spirit of submission required of her now. With every word she copied, she could feel her resistance drop away. She returned to the mindset of surrender far easier than she believed possible. Though the wild child screamed inside her as she often did, it was not to protest. The little imp thrived on excitement and savage sex, and she wanted to be back in the clutches of a master far more than she wanted Alexa’s bland and banal life in that tiny coastal town. Of course, the wild child wanted surrender on her own terms, but she was reckless, her needs hadn’t been satisfied in months – correct that, years – so she dove in without restraint and carried Alexa through the tense moments, the shaky hands and sweaty palms, until she signed her
name on the third letter and looked up waiting for what came next.
Luke smiled self-satisfied as he swiped the letters from the desktop and stuffed them in a manila folder that quickly disappeared into a desk drawer. His back was to her for a moment, giving her a clear view of his muscled shoulders, and the trim line of his torso to his tight ass – a sight she could feast on, along with the bravado of youth and the cool, edgy demeanor that did frightfully wonderful things to her libido. If only she had some warning, if she’d had time to prepare for this, she might have made a better show of herself; she might have felt more of her submissive nature engaged. But her anger still boiled within – how unfair this was after so many years. How long did the innocent have to suffer for one terrible mistake in judgment?
Suddenly Luke whipped around and fixed his dark grey eyes on her with menacing force. He was about to say something but didn’t. Then so like his behavior earlier that day, his mood suddenly switched again and a smile broke out across his face.
“I left the kitchen a mess last night. You can start cleaning there. I let the housekeeper go a couple days ago – to avoid any awkward questions that might arise. For all intents and purposes you have your old job back, Alexa. A few new twists I’m sure, but you’ll catch on in time.”
He made his way around the desk, helped Alexa to her feet, and picking up the chain that dangled from the iron collar, he led her into the kitchen.
She stopped short in shock, while her eyes widened like saucers as she took in the sight before her. Warren Tatum considered himself a chef, and he was not far off the mark. Nearly every weekend he spent hours in the kitchen creating an impressive feast to serve to his friends, and if no friends were around that weekend, he served the winery workers a generous meal. High-end appliances, cooking devices of every sort, gadgets, bowls, serving dishes – the kitchen was top dollar in every way, and a chef’s dream. But now? Now it looked as if the bomb had dropped. Every counter and every work space was ladened with dirty pots, food congealing on the grimy pans, and dishes stacked haphazardly waiting to be washed on the drain board and heaped high in the sink. Adding to the mess was a second layer of garbage, discarded fast food containers, pizza boxes, beer cans and empty wine bottles. The air reeked of the mélange of scents – egg, stale wine, sour milk were the first to confound her senses.
“Oh, dear god,” she thought to herself as her eyes surveyed the mess.
“I don’t clean,” Luke announced, as if he disdained the very idea. This was not entirely surprising. Alexa had heard that tone before, something she associated with his snotty Eastern upbringing. When he came in the summer, it always took several days before she and Warren purged the snooty attitude and turned him back into a real boy. The older he got, the more his pretentious attitude seemed to stick. And now? Luke seemed to fall back on that hubris when it suited the situation, as it did now.
“Start here and work your way around the house,” Luke broke the heavy silence. “I’m sure you know it better than me.”
She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t keep her tongue from wagging, this was just too much of a disaster to ignore without comment. “My god, Luke, how in the hell …” she shook her head in disgust.
“I don’t clean,” he repeated.
“Good thing. No telling what kind of disaster you’d make if you did.”
Without saying a word Luke stepped in behind her; she could feel him close, his breath on her neck and a burning sensation in her ass where she felt the pulse of his sex radiating to her behind. He placed a hand on one butt cheek and squeezed it lightly.
“Let’s get something clear right now. This is no longer my father’s house. It’s mine. How I choose to live and what I do here is my business. As my nanny/slave,” he nastily bit off the words, “your job is to do what you’re told. We can accept the fact that I’m a slob, and that’s never gonna change, but it doesn’t keep me from wanting the house as spotless as it was when you were here before. So live with it, nanny. It’s your cross to bear, and your job to keep the place clean. Pick up the mess like the dutiful slave you are then move on to the next.”
His hand continued to rest against her behind and when he stopped speaking, his warm breath and raging heat were all that remained. Despite her efforts to tamp down the feelings, her body tingled with desire and the wild girl wanted him in her ass right now. Alexa refused to acknowledge the feeling, nor would she move her ass against his hand or respond to his teasing fingers in any overt way. But despite her determination to fend off the effect of his roving hand, her body vibrated like a racecar engine idling on low.
“We’re gonna get along just fine.” The tone of his voice had now softened, little of the snotty boy remained. Instead he caressed her with his words, while his hand continued to massage her ass and drive her body into a frenzy of lust. “This isn’t the old days…no, nanny, the boy’s grown up. You’ll keep my house spotless and surrender yourself when I want to screw you. That’s your job—along with anything else I desire of you.” His voice was quiet, an even, low vibrato that resonated through every atom of her quivering form. “I know what you’re thinking…I’m too young, too naïve, that you’re too old to play slave to a man so green around the edges. Maybe you’re right, maybe I am too young to have the power and money I have, but that’s not the issue here; what’s important is that I own you, Alexa, just as my father did. And you can’t tell me,” he gave her ass cheek an especially hard squeeze, “that the thought of that isn’t making you crazy right now. You’re so turned on you’re about to explode.”
She angrily shook her head in defiance, but she didn’t dare voice her thoughts.
“I’m not the naïve little boy I once was. I may be young, but I’m old enough and experienced enough to tell when a woman wants me. I know that vibe and I’m feeling it now. You’ll try to suppress it; I know you will, because there’s still a snooty, rich slut inside you that has this Old World sense of propriety. She knows you’re too good for this. You want to play that game with me, fine, pointless as it is. All I’d have to do is start ramping up the foreplay,” his caress grew urgent now, “and I’ll have you screaming at the top of your lungs in unbridled sexual ecstasy. You’re easy, nanny, so easy.”
Her body replied with a sudden lurch forward and a fierce spasm that rose up from her sex despite her desire to will it back.
She heard the chuckle beneath Luke’s breath, the elation, the triumph again and she winced inside.
“You just go ahead and be the nice little English nanny, drop the American accent for all I care. Go ahead and pretend, smolder in silence as I fuck with your mind. Just understand that this is no game, the truth is in the open, and regardless of how much you’d like to think this is different, you’re just as hot and horny as I am.” He let her linger on that thought then he gave her ass a firm smack and backed away. “Now get to work.”
***
By the end of the day, Alexa was dead tired and filthy. The tank top she’d started her day with was quickly discarded once it was soaked with dishwater and covered with greasy dirt. She found one of Luke’s t-shirts hanging in the hallway and wore that instead, although by the time she finished mopping the kitchen floor, the shirt was as disgusting as her own.
Tired to the bone, she went in search of Luke and found him in the main room resting on the sofa snoring softly, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He immediately raised his head when she appeared in the doorway, then he sat up straight and yawned.
“You want something?”
“The kitchen’s clean. I’d like to sleep.”
“Sure. Go ahead. I’m going to bed too.” He began flipping through channels on the TV, ignoring her.
“So where do I sleep?” she timidly interrupted.
He looked up at her and shrugged, as if this was one point in his scheme he hadn’t yet figured out, then he drew his lanky body to a stand and headed for the door. Grabbing her hand as he moved through the doorway, he led her through the hal
l to the bedroom wing of the house and up the stairs. Along the corridor to the left were two large master suites that opened onto a balcony overlooking a courtyard garden below. On the other side of the corridor was another, smaller bedroom, a small bath, an alcove library and two storage rooms. Luke stopped before one of the storerooms, opened the door and flipped on the overhead light.
“You’ll sleep here until I can trust you not to do something stupid.”
Alexa peered in then stepped back. “Oh, please…no,” her private protest, though of course he heard.
“I didn’t think you’d like it but where you sleep is not your call.”
“Couldn’t you just tie me to the bed down the hall,” she implored.
“Sure I could. But wasn’t that the bedroom you used before?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll sleep here. My house, my rules,” was all he had to add to get his point across. His house, his rules. She would hear that echoing through her brain all night. With his hand at the small of her back, he gave her a shove and she stumbled forward into the 8x8 windowless box of a storeroom. Even before the door closed, a feeling of claustrophobia swept through her like a north wind. She began to shudder, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even think.
“Luke, please!” she whipped around, crying from some soul deep place and sank to the bare floor at his feet pleading. “Anything but this—”
He greeted her pleading with a haughty grin and nodded, satisfied that he’d chosen well. “Given your reaction, this is exactly where you need to spend your first night back – and perhaps the second, third and fourth night, maybe the whole goddam month.”
“Luke, for crissakes.”
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