Sweet Backlash

by Violet Heart

  "Thank goodness," snapped Kathy. "I'd have beat your skinny, sassy ass every day. But I did teach you everything you know."

  "I'll give you that one. Have I missed anything interesting?"

  "No way. Just George whining about how nobody loves him the way he needs to be loved. You weren't hard enough on him. He needs a Dom who'll shut down his whine and teach him a proper, subservient attitude." Her friend let disappointment show in her expression for a second before beaming. "So let's go find you another victim, shall we? Somebody raw, like George, who you can practice molding through discipline."

  Inside, the greeters waved them in. Familiar faces drank beer from longneck bottles and milled about tables displaying x-rated candies and cookies. First-timers and inductees sat in chairs along the back wall and listened to a talk on ethics and rules of conduct. Melony remembered listening to the speech close to a year ago. Half the attendees wore leather, chains, and spiked accessories, while the others had come in street attire. She fit right in.

  Scanning the newbie's faces, she tried to determine if anyone struck her fancy. As much as Kathy pushed her to take on a new partner, however, she thought she might like a break. Live for herself for a while. She got a glass of cola from the bar then chose a length of white chocolate shaped like a penis before sinking into a plush, red armchair in a nook near the main entrance. Her feet hurt.

  Hushed voices at the door let her know a newbie had arrived late. First-timers had to sign in, fill out a waiver, and wear a name badge. Slipping the tip of the penis confection between her lips, she cut her gaze sideways to see if the newcomer would welcome a flirt. She almost choked on the candy. Her boss stood alone, looking lost and not a little angry.

  A tiny piece of chocolate found its way to the back of her throat, activating her gag reflex, and she hacked. He pinned her with his gaze. Even in the low, nightclub lighting, his intensity reached out and touched palpable fingers to her chest. So much for keeping her lifestyle a secret from the workplace. She dropped the chocolate penis next to her soda on a table.

  Anger surged through her, fueling her already sour mood. In three strides, she thrust her nose in his face. "Who do you think you are? You son of a bitch!" She poked him in the chest and sneered when he winced. "What's the matter? Can't take the pain? Isn't that what you came here for?"

  In a lightening move, he took her face in both hands and smashed his lips to hers. She shoved at his shoulders, but he sent his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp, and softened the kiss. With an expertise that turned her mind to mush, he worked his lips over hers. He eased her into the nook and bent her backward over the chair. Through her leather pants, his hard cock ground against her clit as he urged her lips open and thrust his tongue inside.

  She had never let a man get this far. Men scared her. Their strength caused pain. Their aggression overpowered and demanded submission. Like now. No!

  But he caused no pain. He pushed her coat off her shoulders and skimmed his fingertips across her hot skin. His tongue caressed hers and he traced the outline of her breasts above the hard edge of her bodice. No! She tensed. She was the dominatrix. Her control ruled.

  She wilted. Just a little longer. He tasted so good. Carmel, coffee, and a hint of dry roasted peanuts. She had never tasted a man. He smelled good, too. Sandalwood and vanilla. And his left hand smelled like leather from his briefcase handle.

  His hips ground harder, hurting a bit, and he bent her further over the chair back. Her spine protested and she whimpered. Stop it. Stop it! She slapped him. Hard.

  Lifting off her, he stared with stunned, passion-misted eyes. "Oh, God, Melony. I'm sorry."

  He offered a hand to help her, but she smacked it and heaved off the chair. Ow! She put her fingers on her lumbar and squeezed to cease a muscle spasm.

  One of the bouncers rushed over and put Chip in a headlock. "You seemed to be having fun, Melony. I didn't know you were in trouble."

  "I'm okay, Frank."

  Chip struggled in vain against the burly biker. She suspected the bouncer's spiked wristbands hurt where they dug into her boss's neck. Let him suffer a minute.

  "So, how's Velma? I don't see her at the meetings much these days." The spasm stopped and she twisted her torso to release the last of the tension. She tried not to smile as Chip swung wild, impotent punches in every direction, his head cocked by Frank's elbow so he couldn't see much of anything.

  "She's got a new job. Nightshift down at the bottling plant." He hitched a thumb over his shoulder.

  "Does she like it?" She didn't care.

  "Sure does, sweetheart. Best money she's made yet. And her days are free to go riding with me, among other things." He waggled his eyebrows.

  She smiled. He looked fierce, but he loved his wife like nothing she'd ever seen. And he treated Melony like precious cargo.

  "You want me to break his neck?" he asked, tightening his hold.

  Chip went still, his face turning lavender and his eyes popping. "No. I think he's learned his lesson. You can let him go."

  "You sure about that, sweetheart?" He loosened his grip a fraction, and her boss gasped.

  "Yeah, go ahead. I've got him from here. Where's a whip when ya need one, huh?" She shrugged and grinned.

  "Right." Frank released a hearty laugh. "You take him home, now. Take good care of him."

  What did he think? That she took Chip on as a partner? "Oh, I'm not—"

  The bouncer froze, refusing to release her boss. Scowling, he said, "Nobody comes in here and treats us like he just did to you. Now you tell me he's your new slave or I'm taking him out back, snapping his neck, and dumping him at the railroad tracks."

  Chip sent her a desperate look, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. He had a muscular build, but he didn't stand a chance against the biker's sheer brawn. Damn it. She couldn't let Frank kill him. And Kathy would never let her get away with lying about taking on a new partner. The society would kick her out of membership, and they provided the only support she had ever known. They were friends. An adoptive family of sorts. No, she had no choice.

  Waving a hand in the air, she faked a lighthearted laugh. "He's mine alright. He's really raw. I've got to teach him some manners. I was going to say I'm not ready to leave yet. But if you think we should go…"

  "I think that would be best. He's made enough trouble for one night." Frank growled, reached for the back of his belt, and produced a collar and leash. He clamped the harness around Chip's neck and handed the leash to Melony. "See you both next month." The bouncer saluted her and headed into the heart of the meeting.

  "Come on, slave," she said, giving the leash a tug. "Let's get you settled at my place."

  "What?" Chip rasped, trying to insert his fingers under the edge of the collar.

  "You heard me. My place." She shrugged into her coat and ripped his nametag off his lapel.

  He followed her outside, giving her no trouble. Chill March air cleared her head, and she tried to imagine how they would establish boundaries between the workplace and home.

  "I can't go home with you. I've got a room at a hotel that's paid through the week." His voice still rattled.

  "You don't understand. You just sold your soul to the devil for one kiss."

  Chapter 5

  "You've got a twisted sense of humor." Chip wasn't amused. Trying to locate the collar's fastener, he slowed and said, "Take this thing off of me."

  His secretary gave the leader a tug. "If you value your life, don't fight me." She passed him a meaningful look then glanced at the warehouse's entrance.

  He followed her line of vision to where Frank glared, arms crossed over a bulging chest. The expression on the biker's haggard features made it clear he'd gladly repeat the choking torture.

  Chip rubbed his bruised neck and increased his pace. "You're going to take this thing off, right?"

  "Maybe. If you're a very, very good slave."

  She showed no sign she joked, and he began to compreh
end he'd been thrust into an alternate reality. "Please tell me this is a game."

  "It's no game. You shouldn't have followed me. And you really shouldn't have done what you did. Now you're my slave. Something neither of us wants." Melony unlocked her car and opened the passenger side door. "Get in."

  "I'm not leaving my car. I'm not your slave. And I'm not afraid of Frank." He pulled on the neckband with no result.

  She arched her eyebrows and shifted her weight onto one foot. "You will leave your car. You are my slave. And Frank's headed our way."

  Alarmed, Chip turned. The bouncer stepped off the sidewalk. "Okay. I'm afraid of Frank. But I'm not leaving my car."

  "Then it's your car and your death, or it's my car and your life."

  His fantasy had become a nightmare. He ducked into her car and wondered how fast the biker could run. He'd bet he could outpace the guy. Melony tossed the leader into his lap and shut the door. Freedom! He tugged the door handle a fraction too late. She had hit the lock button on her remote. Unlocking it manually, he reached for the handle again, but she hit the button once more as she rounded the front of the car.

  When he unlocked it a second time, she opened the driver's side door and said, "Your car will be fine. I'll bring you back to get it another day."

  Frank had grown too near, so running would do him no good. He settled against the seatback and fingered the end of the leash. "This really sucks." He shrugged out of his jacket as boiling anger made him warmer.

  "You have no idea. I didn't want a new partner. Not right now, anyway." She started the car and backed out of the space.

  Frank stopped, watching them leave, and Chip resisted the urge to shoot him the bird. "This isn't all about you," he bit out.

  "Here's your first lesson as a slave. It is all about me. You do not exist except to serve me. The sooner you learn this, the easier your month will go."

  A month! He nearly choked on his disbelief.

  She pulled onto the street and accelerated past the speed limit. As the streetlights provided a strobe effect across the dash and their laps, his mind whirled.

  "I'm not doing this," he insisted, heat suffusing his face. "I'm not your slave. I'm not going to serve you. And what's this business about a month?"

  She punched his shoulder, her knuckles amplifying pain to the bone. Grabbing the joint, he stared. She sure could deliver a blow for such a tiny thing.

  "You don't get it," she said, her tone dripping danger. "Frank will kill you. He works for very bad people. He will hunt you down and murder you in a slow, painful manner. He gets off on it. So listen up. According to the rules of the society, the waiver you signed makes you an inductee. Your behavior at the meeting partnered you with me. Since I'm a dominatrix, that makes you my slave. First-time slaves are required to live with their doms for a month to receive their initial training." She pulled into the apartment building parking lot. "So, welcome home. Slave."

  His ears buzzed and a sharp pain spiked through his temple. "Take me to my hotel. I'll get a cab to drive me to my car."

  She parked and jerked her keys from the ignition. "Are you deaf? You're a dead man if you leave." She tapped a fingertip on his forehead, sending new shockwaves through his brain. "You did this to yourself. Now pay the price for your mistakes."

  "This is crap." Chip shook with rage. Nobody had ever treated him, talked to him, like that. "I don't deserve this."

  "Neither do I," she grumbled. Melony got out and gave the leader a tug. "Come on."

  "Are you kidding?" Did she expect him to crawl over the parking brake and driver's seat like a dog?

  "No. I'm not giving you a chance to run. I'd never catch you on these stilts." She lifted a foot for emphasis. "Come on. My feet hurt."

  For the first time, he detected vulnerability in her. Pain added a hard edge to her lips, yet loneliness shone from her eyes like a beacon. She didn't like this any more than he, and he believed she did this to save his life. The problem was she intended to see their roles fulfilled. He'd have to convince her otherwise. He hooked a finger over the edge of the collar. "Take this off."

  "No."

  "I'm not taking the chance of having people see me like this."

  "I don't think you understand your place. You don't decide anything. I tell you what to think, do, and say." She gave the leader another tug.

  His ire rose another notch, and he tapped into his court training to get his emotion under control. Pretending a judge looked down at him, gavel in hand, Chip entered into calm negotiations. "How about I promise to accompany you inside? In fact, because your feet hurt, if you take off this restraint, I'll carry you to your apartment."

  Her eyes widened a bit and she loosened her grip on the leash. "I like the idea of you carrying me, slave. I propose I leave the collar on but drape my arm around your neck and hide the leash with my sleeve."

  She was good, but he really wanted it off. "I'm stronger than you. I could simply resist you. How about—"

  "Don't ever threaten to use your strength against me!" Her face turned pink. She trembled and the leader buckled in her fist. "I swear, I'll beat you until you wish you'd never been born."

  He could only stare. Damn, she was sexy when she got enraged. In the five hours he had known her, she had seemed so poised, so strong. Her wild eyes told him she had come unhinged. Yet, not for a second did he believe she would follow through on such a threat. She intrigued him. All of a sudden, he wanted to get her inside so he could find out what lay behind her outburst. He wanted to find out what made this beauty tick.

  She lowered a veil over her features and inhaled a shaky breath. "Sorry."

  He smirked. "Apologizing to a slave? Is that allowed?" Maybe he could get into this game. For the weekend. He didn't have anything else planned. Now that she showed she wasn't hard as stone, this could prove an interesting diversion.

  * * * *

  Melony couldn't believe her ears. Chip had called himself a slave. Even George hadn't given in so quickly. When he scooped up his jacket and came across the driver seat to join her on the asphalt, she almost smiled. Almost. Did he just become more attractive? She rubbed her eyes and looked at him again.

  "Tired?" he asked.

  "I have no weaknesses," she said, stating her dominatrix mantra. Kathy had taught her that her slave had to believe she was invincible so she could maintain the upper hand.

  He nodded solemnly. "Except your hurting feet."

  Oh, yeah. She had admitted that. And they were on fire. "Be careful," she warned. "Your attitude's going to get you in trouble."

  "Let me help you," he said like a patient father talking to an exasperated child.

  His tone should have insulted her, but she liked it for some reason. She swung the car door shut right before he swept her up in his arms. It took her by surprise because she had expected him to wait for her command, and coming off her feet that way made her stomach do a roller coaster flip. The thrill made her smile, which she buried in her shoulder.

  "Drop something?" He took a step back and glanced at the ground.

  "No. Go ahead." She pressed the lock button, and the car issued a confirming brrrreep.

  He headed for the building entrance, his gait smooth. "You don't weigh much. Probably less without all your leather."

  "Don't talk. You're ruining the moment for me." With every step closer to the apartment, her apprehension mounted. He seemed docile, but she knew attorneys. He only acted this way because he wanted something. She didn't buy his abrupt change in attitude, and she had to come up with a plan.

  The society rules clearly stated that he had to stay at her place for a full month. However, she couldn't let him have the run of the place. Especially with the way he had kissed her. Especially with the way she had enjoyed it. He threatened her security. Her sense of self. Everything she understood of her world. He probably had in mind to put on a face to the society, to Frank, and fake their roles when not behind the safety of closed doors. She couldn't do that. He affect
ed her, made her feel sensations, have thoughts she didn't want. She needed to control him so she could control herself.

  She definitely needed a plan. Damn Frank, anyway. If not for the bouncer, they'd have gone their separate ways and seen each other only at work. The tension caused by this awkward night would have lessened over time, and life could've continued as it should. Unfortunately, they now functioned under the rules of the society. She couldn't relent for a second. If she let him chink at her hard-won wall, he could destroy her. Put her back where she started a year ago.

  Still in his arms, her feet already much less painful, she unlocked the apartment door and pushed it open as he walked them through. He set her feet on the carpet and closed the door while she turned away so he wouldn't see her grimace of pain.

  "You look like a sexy vampire," he said right behind her, his voice washing over her in a seductive embrace.

  Pretending like she didn't hear, she unzipped both boots at the same time and stepped out. The lush carpet cushioned her feet, the relief making her knees weak. She hung her trench coat on the rack and turned. With a simple flick and twist of two fingers, she unfastened the secret latch on his collar and removed it. She hung it on the rack, the leash brushing the floor.

  "Hungry?" she asked.

  "No. But do you have anything to drink?" His expression told her he had as little interest in a beverage as in food. His desire focused on her.

  "You don't get to ask questions, slave." She went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water.

  "Do we have to play that game? How about we cut to the chase and just go to bed?"

  Glass in hand, she stepped backward and presented him with her most inviting come-hither look. He followed like a sheep, though he smiled like a wolf. At a door between the kitchen and the small dining area, she stopped. She licked her lips suggestively, cracked the door, and set the water on a ledge along the near wall inside. "That sounds like a great idea," she purred.

  In a single move, she darted around the door and grabbed handcuffs before he could follow. She waited for him, wondering why he didn't come right in. When he did, the kitchen light illuminated the back of his naked body. She stifled a giggle. How did he undress so fast?