by Measha Stone
No fisting. EVER
He grinned at Erin's text. Fair enough. How'd you sleep?
Never had he been so happy to have hands free texting in his car. Plugging in his phone, he started the car. He put no worth on inanimate possessions. The only staff he employed was his driver, and a maid service, and that was purely out of laziness. He loved a clean home, and the feeling of being cared for in that way. Now and then when he'd had a submissive in his care, she would take over some of the household duties, but those situations were few and far between. They'd all said they enjoyed the service, and they got off on it, for a few days. When they weren't finding themselves all wet in the panties at all moments of the day, they'd shirked the duty and shortly after the relationships had fizzled away. He resolved long ago that it was better to keep his relationships in the bedroom.
Slept better than expected. Face slapping okay.
He turned into the morning rush hour traffic and slowed to a crawl along with the other commuters. One of my favorites. Be warned. George said you blew him off last night. Naughty Naughty
Avoiding a rogue cab driver, he turned down the last leg of his trip. He could have had George drive him, that's what he kept him on staff for, but he doubted that would have made the commute any more pleasurable.
I did tell him I would take the train. Thanks though for the ride back to my office.
Thankfully he found a spot in the lot rather quickly, and headed through the main doors into the lobby. Jerry had been his personal accountant since he'd taken over his parent's estate at the age of twenty-one. Now at thirty-three, he'd come to depend on Jerry for more than just matters of money.
Unlike yourself, George listens to me. We'll work on the obedience tomorrow evening.
He stepped into the crowded elevator and pushed the button for his floor. A pretty blonde eyed him as he stepped to the opposite side of the car. He gave a polite smile then looked back at his phone.
If I go…
Well that said it, didn't it? She could very well flip through the book he'd given her, the basic ABCs of BDSM, and decide the fantasy should remain just that—a fantasy. The idea she wouldn't show, wouldn't put herself on the auction block hadn't really registered as a possibility. Her responses to his touch in his office led him to think she'd want more of the same, and more of everything else he had to offer as well.
He needed to remind himself that up until last night, she'd never had the touch of a dominant, she'd never entered his world of pain and pleasure, discipline and submission. These were just concepts to her, things she'd seen in a porn pic. To him they were his way of being. He'd never had a vanilla relationship that worked, and mostly because he didn't want one. He loved control, and not because he was a complete dickhead. He gave as much pleasure as he took, but he never felt quite like himself when he wasn't holding the reins.
Girlfriends of his adolescence called him selfish, a greedy little rich boy who had to have everything his way. Oh, they had loved the control when he'd given them orgasm after orgasm, but when that moved from the bed to the couch, they ran for the door. At first he'd questioned if they were right. Did he think the world revolved around him because his father had money? But the more he explored, the more he saw it for what it was. He craved control and fed off the submission of a willing woman, not because he was selfish—no submissive had ever had that complaint. No, it was simply who he was. It was him. Finally realizing that, he stayed away from vanilla women.
Then there was Erin. The poster child for vanilla. Or was she? He learned a long time ago that people are not always what they appeared. How many politicians had made their way to his VIP rooms with their mistress for the evening?
If you go. I'll expect you to be wearing something a little less kindergarten teacher. He grinned at his phone before sliding it into the inside pocket of his blazer. In his mind, he imagined the pout of annoyance on her face when she read the text. One thing she did not do was hide her feelings from her facial expressions. He was going to have a hell of a lot of fun playing with her.
The phone vibrated against his chest, but he ignored it. Jerry's receptionist took him right to his office. He needed to focus, to make his plans for his club.
"Bradley!" Jerry grinned and slapped his hand into Bradley's for a hearty handshake. He offered Bradley a seat then closed his office door. "How've you been?" The older man eased into his chair behind his massive desk. A picturesque view of the lakefront provided the elegant background the suited Jerry perfectly. The now graying accountant had been a family friend since Bradley could remember. Having worked so closely with his father, he depended on him for his honesty and guidance.
After the car accident it was Jerry who took him aside and showed him the true fortune of his parent's estate. His father may not have slaved away at a desk or in a coal mine, but he'd put much effort in turning old money into new and fresh money. The investments and real estate purchases had nearly tripled the Sorenson's family worth, and it was all the responsibility of Bradley to manage at the tender age of twenty-one. If it hadn't been for the sound advice and push for him to get a few financial classes under his belt, Bradley probably would have destroyed the wealth his father had worked so diligently to build.
"I have a favor to ask, Jerry. I'm not thrilled with the job the club accountant is doing with our books at the club. I think some money has gone missing, and other money is allocated where it shouldn't have been. I need a full audit on the company accounts."
"Really? McAllister's firm? I've heard nothing but good things about them." Jerry sat back in his chair, and folded his hands on his rounded belly.
"I know you recommended them pretty highly. I don't think it's the firm, I think it's just the accountant we've been assigned. Seems a little wet behind the ears." His phone buzzed again against his chest. "After we know the real damage, we'll switch accountants either at that firm, or I'll bring our business here."
"I thought two of your partners didn't want an accountant that had any ties to one of you." Jerry pointed out with raised bushy eyebrows.
"Alex Tribelli and I are going to be putting a bid in to buy the other two out. They are one of the issues with the books. A lot of personal expenses have been going through the business. I have a meeting with Jackson this afternoon to start drawing up the proposal."
"You'll own half of the club?" Jerry's eyes widened.
"Yep." The phone buzzed in his blazer again. He wondered where in the book Erin was reading at that moment. From what little information he'd gotten from her the night before, she planned on working from home today, giving her plenty of opportunity to browse the book while she worked.
"Well, if the clubs doing as well as you say, and your distributions have shown it's a healthy company, it will only be better having fifty percent instead of twenty-five."
Bradley's phone buzzed again, distracting him for a moment. "So, I'll get the ledgers all sent over to you?" He stood from his chair and extended his hand across the desk.
Jerry followed suit. "Sure thing. I'll take a look and get back to you. How soon do you think you'll put in the bid?"
"Probably not for another week or two. Alex and I need to iron out a few details first, and I'm sure Travis and John will take some time to think it over." Bradley turned back to Jerry, holding the door open.
"Sounds good. I'll take a look at the ledgers soon as they come in."
"Okay. Thanks, Jerry." He gave a nod before closing the door behind him. Bradley made his way through the office toward the elevator without looking at his phone, though the anticipation of seeing her messages did quicken his step.
Seven messages.
I've never done anal—so maybe
You are not putting vegetables up my bottom—no figging!
How do you feel about sushi?
Rope—yes
Breathe play—not sure
What if you get mad at me? If I screw it all up?
When you said ruff what did you mean?
> He couldn't help but smile at his phone. She had jumped right in. If she didn't live so far away, he'd surprise her for lunch, but since she was way out in the burbs, he'd have to settle for doing some paperwork before his meeting with Jackson.
I love sushi. If you give me your best, I won't get mad.
If you disobey you'll be punished.
You won't screw it all up. We'll always talk it through.
Rough. Think of two safewords for tomorrow night. One for slowdown and one for stop.
He couldn't remember the last time he sat down and did a full negotiation with a new sub. He hadn't taken on a newbie in years. The girls he played with at the club had been friends or playmates for years. He knew what they liked, how hard he could go, how far he could push. Erin would be different. He'd have to slowly take her where wanted her. He wouldn't go easy. He didn't do easy, but he'd have to be patient. He meant what he said, he wouldn't ask for perfection, but he damn well expected obedience and effort.
The club was quiet when he stepped into the lounge. Other than himself he didn't expect anyone else to be there. Kerri would be in later in the afternoon to do her office work before the club started to swing into gear, so he was surprised to find Alex standing in the middle of the lounge looking around the room as if he were mentally measuring it.
"Hey! What are you doing in?" Bradley pulled him from whatever mental image he had lost himself in.
Alex turned with surprise in his eyes. "Oh. Hey." A dark shadow hung under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept. "Just wanted to get a few things done. Did you see your accountant about doing the audit?"
"Just came from there. I'll get the stuff over to him today, should have something by end of next week I think. Meeting with my attorney this afternoon." Bradley gave a nod toward the VIP rooms. "Most of the equipment has arrived from Dominant Galleria. Kendrick said the last cross and bench will be delivered today. He's going to stop by this evening to go over the security detail with the crew and staff for tomorrow night."
"Good. Looks like it all came together." Alex slid his hands into his jean pockets and gave a forced smile.
"Wait, it's Friday. Don't you all get together tonight?" Would Erin be there and could he tag along, he wanted to add, but managed to keep his teenage psyche in his head.
"Usually. No one can make it." He shrugged. "Well, Erin called it off again and the other girls wanted to do some last minute shopping or something."
"Erin called off last week too, I think you mentioned." Bradley checked his phone, trying to look casual. She hadn't gotten back to him yet.
"Yeah, it's been weird. We haven't seen her in like three weeks." Alex shook his head.
"How did you meet her again?" Bradley was fishing.
"College."
"And she's the one that lives out in the suburbs. Quiet domestic life?"
Alex's eyes furrowed for a moment. "Well, sort of. Her and her fiancé have yet to set a date for their wedding. She's wound pretty tight, maybe he's trying to get her to loosen up before he ties the knot."
Bradley nodded, but his stomach twisted at the mention of her fiancé. The asshole that walked out on her, leaving her for some other woman. Alex didn't know that though. None of them did. Erin had been dealing with the loss of her fiancé all by herself for weeks. Why not go to them? They seemed like such a tight knit group.
"Hmm. Maybe she's not ready?" Bradley offered.
"Oh she's ready." Alex's smile relaxed, became more natural. "Our little Erin is always prepared. Why so many questions?"
"No reason. You all seem to have quite the friendship, is all." Bradley looked at his phone again. Still nothing.
"Yeah. You'd think with having three girls in my little group there'd be more drama." Alex pointed at the west end of the lounge. "Let's have the stage put there, close to the offices. The slaves can use our offices as dressing rooms, instead of the usual locker rooms."
"Sure. That's a good idea." Bradley eyed Alex for a moment, tempted to tell him about Erin's appearance the night before. He should know. If she made her way to the auction on Saturday, he shouldn't be blindsided by that.
"You know. I think I'll ask Jessica to give Erin a call. Now that I'm thinking about it, she hasn't been around or even talking to us much the past few weeks. It's not like her to hide like that. The girls may need to make a trip out to see her."
"Do they usually swoop in like that?"
"Well, Erin's different. Fragile." Alex looked at his watch and grimaced.
"Fragile?" There was more bite in the word than Bradley intended. Alex's gaze narrowed again. "Well, I want to get that ledger over to Jerry. I'll be in my office." Bradley slapped Alex on the back and headed to his office before he said something he would regret.
Fragile. He hadn't seen a fragile, helpless woman sitting in front of him the night before. He saw a woman chasing after what she wanted. He saw a woman who risked vulnerability in order to find her desires. A fragile woman wouldn't do that. A fragile woman would not have had the strength to lean against his desk and allow him the pleasure of bringing her to such a strong orgasm.
Finally, his phone buzzed.
If I go, what time should I be there?
He ran a hand over his smooth head. I expect you at nine. You'll be in the second round of auctions. Bring an overnight bag with clothes for the weekend.
Presumptuous much?
He smiled at the phone.
Brats get spanked in bad ways. Nine. The bag is in case you say yes.
Yes to what?
Tomorrow at nine. What else have you been reading?
His demand for an overnight bag was done on impulse. He had a feeling, a strong feeling, that after the short scene he planned for her in the club, he wouldn't be able to send her home. He'd want her for longer. She wasn't going to get a quick rebound fuck. If she agreed—and she would— he'd be taking her home for the weekend. Fragile his ass.
CHAPTER SIX
Erin walked through the back door into the kitchen when she heard the doorbell. She tossed the newspaper she'd been reading on the back patio onto the counter and headed through the hall to the door. She wasn't expecting anyone, and she really hoped Jessica and Kelly hadn't made the trek out to see her. She'd avoided all questions and comments from them pretty successfully over the past week.
Without looking through the side window, she yanked open the door. Her heart stopped for a moment. Jonathan stood on the porch holding a bunch of cardboard boxes in his hands. She convinced her lungs to start taking in air again, and pushed the screen door open for him. He had keys, he could have let himself in.
"Hey, Erin." His expression was bland, his face paler than usual. "I thought it would be a good time to get some of my things." He nodded toward the boxes.
"Good time for who?" She said then shook her head. Of course he needed his things, and did she really want to keep looking at his crap strewn throughout the house? She wasn't completely over him yet, that would take time, but she had come to accept that she didn't want him back. Even if he groveled and told her how sorry he was, she would never trust him again. She couldn't. He didn't just cheat, he abandoned her. Without any effort to make things better, he just gave up.
She walked back into the house and heard him following. "You're alone, I hope," she said without looking over her shoulder at him. Coffee. She needed coffee… with a little something extra in it.
"Yes. I haven't talked with any of the guys, have you?" He approached the subject of their mutual friends with some caution. They wouldn't take kindly to how he ended their relationship, and she was pretty sure Jonathan was afraid of physical retaliation.
"No. I've been busy." She tucked her hair behind her ears and searched the dishwasher for her coffee cup. In this instance, only the extra-large one would do. "You don't need my help, go ahead." She waved her hand at him. She needed him out of the room. Looking at him made her stomach queasy, and her head ache.
He nodded and headed off. She heard him ma
ke his way up the stairs to their room. Their bedroom where they slept and made love. She let out a long breath. That was all over now. It wasn't going to come back.
She'd spent the better part of the last two days looking over the material Bradley had given her, and looking up more information on the web. So many of the traits Jonathan disliked about her were the ones dominants seemed to like. The more she worked through the information, the more she began to think maybe spending a night with Bradley would be beneficial. If nothing else, then just to help her figure out what sort of dominant she was looking for.
"I'm going to hire some movers to come grab my office furniture. I'd like the television set in the bedroom if that's okay with you."
Erin stared at him with a blank mind. Television? He wanted the TV? "Fine." She lifted her coffee mug to her lips. "Anything else you want?"
He took a deep breath. "Erin, I know I hurt you."
"I'm not talking about this with you." She shook her head. "Is there anything else you want besides the TV and your office furniture?"
Jonathan took another deep breath. "We'll need to decide what to do with the house. I don't want it." He paused to look away. "I'm living in the city."
"With your girlfriend." Erin nodded, trying not to let the information strangle her. Of course he would move in with her. Where the hell else would he go? His family lived over an hour away and none of the guys would take him in once they knew what he'd done.
"Yes." He ran a hand through his hair. "The house."
"I'll have to think about it." She turned away from him, willing her eyes to fight back the tears.
"Erin. I'm sorry."
"Jonathan. I'd like it if you would just finish up and go." She gripped the counter, letting the sharp edge of the Formica dig into her skin.
A heavy sigh. "Okay. Think about the house." And with that she heard his footsteps on the stairs.
She listened to him moving around for over an hour. The stranger roaming the halls, collecting his little memorabilia from the walls and shelves of their house. She overheard a phone conversation. It was with her. The other woman. His woman. He'd explained how long he'd be, that everything was fine. And no Erin wasn't giving him a hard time. She'd clenched her eyes shut. He'd said it as though she were the one who'd behaved badly. As though it were she who lied for the last six months and broke his heart. Poor Jonathan. He had to see his ex-fiancé, had to face up to the reality of what he'd done.