“She’s all yours. And thanks. Nice stroll down memory lane,” he smirked for Luke’s benefit, putting on a creditable show – at least it seemed like a deliberate show – making clear that he wanted the slave to slake his lust and nothing more. He tossed on a t-shirt, snatched his jacket from the back of the chair and headed for the door. “I’ve got to head up the hill, take a look at the Cabernet grapes.” He was out the door before either Alexa or Luke could say another word. They were left staring at the open door, until Luke turned back and Alexa sat up in bed and pulled the covers close to hide her naked chest.
“So, you done playing hooky?”
She pulled out of bed, tossing off the false modesty, and grabbed for the t-shirt she had arrived in. “Playing hooky? I thought it was part of my job to fuck whoever asked. I figure I’m still on the clock.”
He sniggered at the inference. “I think Bo should pay more attention to when he uses you. My goddam house party is going on up the hill, and I’ve got hungry guests. Or did you forget that part?”
“Sorry, can’t be in two places at once,” she shot off, having no desire to placate his irritated mood. However, rather than sounding snide, sarcastic or as pissed off as she honestly was, she maintained a neutral stance. “Like you said, don’t think, just do what you’re told.” Well, maybe she was sounding a little bit snide, but not so much that it rattled the boy.
“How about you just get moving now.”
“You want me dressed…” she said, referring to the corset and her fancy clothes.
“I want you cooking breakfast!” he snapped, further annoyed. “Wear an apron and forget the rest for now.”
“Yes, sir!” she said, and she dashed from the room and the cottage, making her way up the path to the house before he could call her back.
***
What Alexa expected to be another round of humiliating activity for her became one of the simplest tasks of her current tenure at the winery. Compared to the wild sexual beasts they were the night before, Luke’s guests were surprisingly subdued for their 10 am brunch. Luke had made it seem as if they were all impatiently waiting for the tardy slave, but on arriving back at the house, Alexa found no one anywhere on the main floor, though she could hear a commotion of moaning voices, calls for Aspirin, and even a few irritated bellows from the floor above. They were all badly hung over, and if she thought about it, she guessed that Luke was hung over, too.
Alexa made a large, steamy plate of scrambled eggs, plus toast, sausage, orange juice and coffee. Luke’s guests turned up their noses at the initial offer of food, but then trickled into the dining room and began eating. The men downed nearly all of what she’d laid out, while the girls took tiny portions, nibbling gingerly at first, then finally gobbling down every bite. Though still bleary eyed and out sorts, they were less edgy and less hung over by the time they finished.
As Luke ordered, Alexa wore nothing but a simple white apron for the morning brunch. The skimpy garment covered her body well enough in front, if you didn’t consider the way her breasts eagerly sprung out from inside the upper part of the apron and she had to keep tucking them back inside. The jeers and catcalls she expected to hear didn’t come, regardless of the number of trips she made between kitchen and dining room. Even Luke was sexually unreceptive to the usual stimulation. One might think he was being considerate of Ashley’s feelings, since it was clear that they’d spent the night in the same bed. But on further observation, Alexa determined that while Ashley might have been smitten with Luke, he hardly shared the same swooning infatuation. He was still the same self-absorbed Luke he’d been since she first returned to the winery. Wearing nothing but a scanty apron, she felt terribly out of place. For all their moaning discomfort on waking, Luke’s friends were back in their designer street clothes, looking perfectly grand as ever, considering how they’d spent the previous night.
“I’m going into the City, Luke,” Brett announced. She dabbed her bright lips then placed the napkin on the table.
“Oh, I’m going too,” Miranda chimed in. “I could use a shopping trip.”
“Well, dear,” Brett said with a lazy sigh, “As I told Luke when he thought up this reckless weekend, I need to be in Boston tomorrow, so there won’t be much shopping time today. But you’re certainly welcome to join me for the drive. You can drop off the rental car when you’re done.”
“Yeah, and I got a call from Boston,” Brendon spoke up, “Nancy’s telling me that if I’m not in my attorney’s office by 5 pm tomorrow evening he’s going to cut me up into little pieces and dispose of me in the river.”
“For crissakes, Brendon, isn’t it time you put that attorney in his place?” Brett groaned.
“Don’t expect that to happen,” James shot off. “Malcolm’s got him by the balls on this deal.”
“Fuck you, James,” Brendon scowled. He turned back to Luke. “Man, I’d like to stay…little horseback riding, shooting, all the wine you’ll ever need, and well…” he stopped there, referring to Alexa but without even a single glance her way. “You sure have a sweet deal here.”
“Considering how successful this house party has been, you can be sure there will be more,” Luke said, though without much enthusiasm. “I’m thinking of one for the end of the summer.”
“Well, keep me on your guest list,” Brett added. “But now, I really need to head out.” She stood, as did Miranda.
“Ashley, James?” Luke turned to the other two. His mood seemed strange to Alexa. She’d returned to the kitchen and now listened from behind the door, hearing the conversation almost as clearly as if she were in the room. Was he upset that they were leaving so precipitously, or glad? Knowing now that the one night had been their plan was a great relief to Alexa who initially expected the party to continue the entire day.
“I’m meeting a college buddy in Larkspur,” James replied, “he wants to take me out on his boat this afternoon. Looks like a good day to sail.”
“Well then, you’d better get packing,” Luke said cheerily.
“All done. Car’s all ready to go,” James returned. Of all Luke’s guests that morning, he seemed least affected by the previous night’s drunken orgy. In fact, the typically pokerfaced James was little different from the James Alexa experienced the night before, with the possible exception of the memorable moments when he fucked her
Having dispensed with the appropriate pleasantries, he stood, nodded to the rest and headed for the door.
Only Ashley had yet to announce her plans. “You know I don’t want to go,” she started in. “But—” There was a winey sweetness to her voice and the way she cocked her head was truly charming, if not a little too girlish and cute for an East Coast girl.
“You needn’t worry, Ash,” Luke said. “I’ll be back in Boston soon.”
She sat next to Luke, leaning into him shyly. Her pale green eyes brimmed with desire and seemed totally fixed on the boy. He’d fucked her hard; this wasn’t a guess, Alexa knew. Another pang of jealousy reared up so fast that she inadvertently stumbled against the doorframe, jarring her enough to send orange juice spilling from the pitcher she carried. Had she ever looked at a man so adoringly? she wondered to herself. She already knew she hadn’t; this was a part of life her current circumstances hadn’t permitted. Even in six years on her own, she hadn’t a moment when she felt the romantic stirrings she witnessed in Ashley now. She’d dated a few times in the years after Warren’s death, but her feelings for men had been so jaded by the long string of dispassionate bedmates, masters and assorted brutes who had populated her life since she left England, that she couldn’t trust any man with her emotions.
Such a silly girl, she thought, as she heard Ashley cooing in Luke’s ear. But jealousy be dammed! She shoved the girl from her thoughts. Then after wiping the spilled OJ, she picked up the pitcher and headed back to the dining room with the juice, even though no one was interested now. Again her presence seemed very much at odds with the two lingering in the room. Alexa ha
d been in similar situations when it was Warren at the head of the table for a morning-after meal. There’d been no discomfort then; her attire and slavish behavior was no more than a continuation of the wild sexual activity of the night before; and Warren’s guests were comfortable, and even encouraging of the sexually charged atmosphere. But this was an entirely different crowd, and it finally dawned on Alexa what was happening now. They played hard and wildly the night before, and though they tried to sound bold and daring, even well versed in the kinky activity of the night – which they were not – by morning’s light they were stung with embarrassment. Silent and feeling awkward with the object of their nighttime debauchery present, they could barely stand to look at her now – even Luke held back the gawking for the entire meal. When he suddenly rose to his feet, Alexa was relieved to see Ashley and Brendon quickly deserting the room.
Chapter Twelve
Alexa leaned back against her cowboy lover and cooed. The middle of the night, the moon was out, the sky bright and filled with stars. Even the lights of the city couldn’t dim the display cast by the heavens on this clear cool night. Bo wasn’t much of a cowboy, never roped cattle as far as she knew. But he had cowboy sensibilities. He was gruff, a little gnarled, but he moved with surprising grace – and the artist in him knew what to do with his hips and feet as he crooned his bluesy bluegrass, and picked country tunes on his ancient Martin.
His hand rested on her ass, where every few minutes she’d feel a gentle squeezing send another shooting dart of lust through her hungry body. They’d just fucked and now were on the porch cooling off. He wore jeans, nothing else, not even his boots; she wore nothing but sweat and the body juices drying on her skin. It has been a fast and furious fuck, libidos colliding as they often did in the dead of night, when Alexa escaped the house and made her way down to Bo’s modest cottage. Since Luke’s house party, any night he was away from the winery, her desire crept in and sent her bounding down that path to Bo. The first fucking was always furious, just as it had been that night; the next would be a slow dance to ecstasy beginning with that first butt squeeze.
“Dammit, Bo, you’re doing it again,” she purred, as her ass ground back against his caressing hand. Her slit was slippery and his fingers slid easily into the steamy fissure.
“And you could come right now,” he said.
“Of course, I could,” she purred. She breathed in through her mouth and undulated against him, ravenous for even the smallest touch. Every time their flesh met, the skin sizzled. Heat radiated from the tender burning.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he warned. His mellow voice was low and warm, vibrating on the same wavelength as her body’s shuddering tremors.
She writhed against him unable to stop herself, until he pushed her down to the hard packed earth where her knees immediately hit the dust. She went for his crotch, the fly of his jeans and the cock beneath, trying frantically to undo the small string of brass buttons that were in her way. He kicked her back with the toe of his boot.
“You’re a sorry excuse for a submissive,” he snapped.
“I’m a horny one, Bo.” She looked up longing for more of him.
“As if that weren’t obvious. You’re not getting enough of what you need.”
She was not sure where he was headed with this, but she would try. “And you know what that is?”
He suddenly seemed unusually disagreeable when he was normally as ready for more sex just as she was. “I know that sometimes you need to be slapped around and stung with a little pain – or a lot of pain if the occasion warrants. Apparently, your master doesn’t satisfy you that way. I’m surprised.”
“He is no master,” she said.
“Is that so? The boy’s a faker, just playing games. That what you think?”
“I think he’s young and sexy and totally self-absorbed. Even Warren at his worst remembered that I was a human being, worthy of at least a little respect.”
“But you like young and sexy, Alexa,” he taunted. “By results, you must like him totally self-absorbed – that way you only have to be his slave when he’s paying attention to you. Let’s you off the hook so you can keep running back to me.”
She looked up at him flustered. What did he mean by results? This was not what she expected.
“C’mon, Bo. You know I love what you do to me much more than what Luke gives me.”
“You want my attention? You want to be beaten?”
“I want whatever you want of me.” It was easy to say and the God’s honest truth.
“That’s damn foolish to suggest,” Bo replied.
“But it’s true.”
“You think so?” he smirked – he was amused – but the glint in his eye was utterly wicked.
“Oh, I know so.”
“Beg to disagree, Alexa. I don’t think you have any idea what I really want. In fact, I’m pretty certain that you have no idea what you want.”
“That’s not true.”
“If you could have your way…anything at all, no restrictions, no incriminating evidence in Luke’s safe, what would it be?”
“It would be you and me together. You know that’s how I feel.”
“And you and me together, what does that mean to you?”
She had a hard time with his tone, his stance, his dark penetrating eyes, his grimace; as if he knew things that she didn’t and she wondered if that were true. “It means that we have this, what we have here in your house when we’re together.”
“Equals?”
“Well…” she stumbled here, unsure what he was after. “No, I guess not equals.”
“Then what? Who am I to you? Just the winery employee who slakes your lust when you find your life getting too rough.”
“What is this about?” she asked cautiously.
“Oh, I think somewhere in the back of your mind, you do know exactly what I’m talking about, you just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”
She shook her head. “Honestly, Bo, I really don’t know what you mean.”
“You need me to spell it out?”
“Yes. Spell it out!”
“You want a Master, Alexa. And by god you need one, because your life won’t run for shit without one. I’m not talking about Warren or Luke, oh, for God’s sake not Luke.”
She stared at him for a moment, finally saying a feeble, “You?” Her entire body shook, every atom down to the molecular level, every fucking element was vibrating at the truth behind that simple you.
“Think about it, Alexa. Think real hard. Just remember one thing. You’re not gonna get what you really want, what you absolutely need until you cut ties with the boy.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Bullshit. I told you this before. I’m friggin’ tired of this shit with you and me. You go to him. You cut him off. You stand your ground like you should have months ago and send him packing back to the East Coast where he belongs with his snotty friends. You get that done. See how you feel when it’s over, then come see me.”
“What?” She looked at him in disbelief.
“You heard me. You’re one hot roll in the hay. But there’s a lot more between us, and until you get a grip on that and do something about the ‘situation’ we’re done. You seem to like taking orders, well, let’s consider this an order. One you damn well better obey.”
“Bo, you don’t—”
He cut her off, “Oh, I do mean it.”
“You’re asking the impossible.”
“You so sure about that?”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin…”
“Go back to being the nanny, Lexy – not the fucking horny nanny but the woman who took charge of him when he was a kid. The kid’s still there, waiting for you to call a halt to this nonsense.” He stared at her tersely, then turned his back on her. “Go on, go do it,” he said, as he shuffled back into the house. “Come back when it’s done and we’ll talk,” he added before he closed the door.
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***
Her mind was in a daze, turned utterly upside down by Bo’s sudden change in behavior. What had caused this? She couldn’t conceive of trying to power up on Luke. He was too entrenched in this absurd master/slave game he played to back out now. Luke give her back her freedom? Bo was living in fantasyland if he thought she could just march right in and what? Quit? Oh, no, Bo was wrong, dead wrong about this.
Luke returned from a quick trip to San Francisco the following day, and for the next several days, she and Luke lived separate lives inside the house. She went about the usual household tasks, while he was pre-occupied with a number of things, though she was not clued in to what they were. He didn’t even ask her to fix his meals. He seemed locked inside his world, and she was happy to live in her own without his intrusion. Only when he got horny was she of any use to him, and in that regard, he was as unpredictable as he’d always been. He came to her when he was ready to fuck, and without preamble, pulled her away from whatever she was doing, rarely saying much at all. Sometimes he made her strip naked, other times he simply bent her over whatever was about the right height, raised her skirt and inserted his cock in whatever hole he wanted at the moment. Sometimes she was on her knees getting her face-fucked until she gagged. He didn’t care, just kept ramming his organ into her despite the choking, gag reflex. He fucked hard, harder and meaner than it had ever been between them, as if there was something he had to get off his chest, something he needed to forget. As if a haunting demon needed to release inside her cunt – or even more appropriately, her ass. However, if it were a demon, it didn’t matter how much they fucked, it never seemed to go away. As the week went on, his surly mood deepened into something that almost seemed sinister. That’s when he began to beat her ass or breasts before the fucking began. She gave him what he wanted, almost glad that the rest of her body could take some of the pain. There was even some perverse exhilaration that made these moments erotic for her—and it was far better for her at the finish, when it took little time for him to orgasm. A few strokes of his cock and he was done. By then, her cunt and ass were so sore from all the vigorous use, that she was thankful they didn’t need to spend so much time actually fucking.
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