by Tawny Taylor
He caught her hand in his, turned it over and pressed a sweet kiss to her palm. “That’s just it. You’ve been doing the giving for so long you don’t know how to receive.” They shared a sweet moment of watery glances and understanding half-smiles. “Now get going. I’m going to feel like shit if you’re late for work. Then again, making you late could be fun…”
“You’re devious.” She shooed him away, before swinging the door closed. She cranked on the water and, curious, tiptoed to the door and inched it open. She caught him leaving the room, a glorious sight, nude male perfection.
It was still hard to believe they were doing this—acting like they were a thing, lovers. Just a few days ago, she’d thought he was out of her life forever. What had she done to deserve such a wonderful man?
When she finally left the steamy heat of the bathroom some twenty minutes later, she found the bed had been made. And there was a pyramid of white boxes in its center. A huge red bow perched atop the stack. She unwrapped all the boxes. Beautiful designer clothes, shoes, jewelry. Inside lay a card in a white envelope.
To Elena,
Thank you for being who you are.
Kyler
Oh God. Could a man be any sweeter? Any more generous?
Somehow, she wanted to give back to Kyler, show him how much she appreciated the sacrifice he’d made to let her keep her job.
But how? What could a girl who had nothing give to a man with everything? Christmas was coming. Maybe by then she’d know what that gift should be.
* * * * *
Kyler forced himself to wait until the end of the day before driving over to TK Technologies. He had his reasons for waiting, the main one being if he did find out the driver of what was once his leased Lincoln was Matt Becker, he wanted to follow him, see if he’d head back to Stacy’s house.
He couldn’t imagine why Becker would pay Stacy a personal visit. She was a Domme. He was a manipulating ass, not a submissive. A blackmailing, manipulating ass.
Maybe he was ready for another promotion, already. Stacy was the CFO’s secretary, most definitely in a position to help him if he was after a bigger fish. Shit, that had to be it. Stacy’s calls, her nervous act when he’d gone to her house, she was looking for his help but was afraid to ask. She was in over her head.
Becker was at it again. But this time, he’d catch the asshole in the act.
He had his chance a few nights later.
Because Kyler had been in Stacy’s home plenty of times, he knew her patio door didn’t lock properly. He’d told her to get it fixed more than once, but she’d shrugged him off, joking that he was more worried about her safety than she was. Besides, it locked fine, at least at first glance. Anyone who thought to break in would think so. But if they jiggled the door a certain way, the lock disengaged. How likely was it that a guy would stand around playing with a door, hoping it would magically come unlocked?
This was why he’d known she wouldn’t fix it.
Sure enough, a little jiggle and the lock flipped up. He was in, and no one was the wiser. He could hear voices, Stacy’s and Becker’s, coming from down in her personal bondage dungeon, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Being careful to avoid making any noise, he slowly descended the stairs to her finished basement, stopping before he reached the bottom.
“You’ve been such a good slave,” Stacy said. “Come here. Serve me. On your knees.”
What the hell? It seemed Kyler had been wrong about Becker. He was a submissive.
But he supposed that didn’t mean he’d also been wrong about Becker’s reason for being in Stacy’s house. He could still be trying to manipulate her.
There was only one way to find out.
He raced down the rest of the stairs and stepped around the corner, finding Stacy perched on the bondage chair she called her throne, eyes closed, Becker’s head between her spread legs. Her eyelids snapped up a split second after Kyler cleared his throat.
“Kyler,” Stacy said, eyes widening for a single heartbeat before narrowing again.
Becker’s head swiveled as he twisted at the waist, glancing over his shoulder. “Kyler?”
“Don’t stop, slave.” She fisted Becker’s hair and yanked, turning him back around. “This is quite a surprise. I didn’t even hear you knock.”
“That’s because I didn’t. I…You never fixed the lock.”
She smoothed her hands down her torso, sheathed in a red PVC corset, her splayed fingers coming to a rest just above her belly button. “I was hoping it might come in handy someday. And it has.”
“Then you want people breaking in your house?”
“Only one.”
Kyler shook his head. “What the hell is going on here, Stacy? I came here today, thinking Becker was maybe trying to blackmail you like he did Elena.”
“How gallant of you,” she said, a sultry smile blossoming over her face. “But you’ve got it all wrong, in case you didn’t realize that by now.”
“Why don’t you tell me how it really is then?”
Her smile faded. “I can’t believe you didn’t put it all together. You’ve really disappointed me. In fact, I’ve totally lost interest in our game now.” She curled the fingers of her right hand into Becker’s hair again and pulled, glaring down at him. “What the hell are you doing? You don’t eat me like a toddler lapping at a lollipop, you worthless animal. Either do it right or leave.”
Was this the same woman he’d known all these years? On the outside, she looked the same. But the Stacy he knew was down to earth, easy to talk to. Outside of bondage play, she didn’t play games. “What game?” Kyler asked, completely bewildered.
“This one. The game we’ve been playing since the day you dumped me.”
What the hell? “I never dumped you. We were never…together.”
Something flashed across her face, but the expression didn’t remain there for long. In less than a blink, her expression was frosty again. “Is that really what you believe? Do I need to remind you of what you said to me?”
Kyler was so confused, he didn’t know what to say next. Obviously, he hadn’t just misread Becker, he’d also misread Stacy. In a huge way. Looked like he’d somehow mislead her too.
He couldn’t remember having ever said anything to make her think they were lovers. They’d never flirted. Never kissed or fucked. They’d never played in a dungeon together. They’d never shared any really deep intimacies. All they’d ever done was talk.
“It looks like you do need me to remind you.” Cruelly, she shoved Becker’s head from her then kicked him in the center of his chest with her spike-heeled boot. “You’re done. Go, learn how to eat pussy right. And don’t come back until you do.”
Becker fell backward, catching himself with his hands before scrambling back into his submissive position on his knees. “Yes, Mistress.”
Dressed in her PVC corset, and matching red fishnet stockings and knee-high boots, Stacy sauntered over to Kyler, sliding a black-painted fingernail between her lips. “I care about you, Stacy,” she said, throwing his own words in his face. “Like I haven’t cared about a woman in a long time.”
Shit, he had said that, a long time ago. And he’d meant it at the time. But not in the way Stacy had thought. “I meant I care about you as a friend. You’re a Domme. I’m a Dom. Neither of us are switches.”
“You could be. If you wanted me bad enough. You’d become a switch if you loved me.”
“Why would you ask anyone to become something they’re not if you love him? That’s not what love is all about, making people change.”
“Hey, I watched you over the past how many years? How many women have you tried to ‘fix’?”
She was right. Now that he thought about it, he had tried to change more than one of his former lovers. He’d fooled himself into thinking it was okay, by telling himself that he was helping them become better. “That was before. I know better now. Love is about…” He hesitated, realizing the real reason why every
one of his former relationships had failed. It wasn’t because he’d been trying to change the women.
Love is about trusting, becoming vulnerable, giving of yourself, your heart and soul. Whether the one doing the loving is a Dom or sub or neither.
He’d always thought he’d known how to love. But he hadn’t. He’d only known how to play the role of lover. He’d always been the kind of guy to throw expensive gifts at his women. But that wasn’t truly giving. Those things had only been poor substitutes for the one thing his lovers had all been asking for—his heart. Just maybe, if he’d taken the chance, let himself become vulnerable, rather than focusing on how he could fix the woman or how she was failing him, he would have found true happiness with one of them. Maybe he could have spared himself and them a lot of heartache.
“Oh, are you going to get all philosophical on me now, Kyler? That’s so not you.” She sighed as she circled him, her eyes assessing. “You’ve always had the unfailing ability to fool yourself into thinking you see the truth, both in yourself and in everyone around you. Has that changed?”
“If you’d said that a month or so ago, I’d have had no idea what you were talking about.” He swore his blood had turned to ice, he felt so cold right now.
She stopped directly in front of him then, her expression turning haughty. “Then you’ve had a revelation. How nice. Aren’t you going to thank me?”
“No. Thank you for what?”
“Blackmailing Becker into getting you fired.”
“I quit.”
“Yeah, right. You quit.” Smiling, she patted his chest. “You had no choice. Although I’ll admit, I was surprised to see you give up. I figured you’d put up at least a bit of a fight. After all, you were so proud of where you’d gotten yourself.”
“Let me make sure I’ve got this clear—you were the one who cooked up that scheme with Elena and the money?”
Stacy shrugged again. “Maybe you expect me to be sorry, but I’m not. You didn’t deserve to be VP. Becker does. He may be on his knees, but he has a spine…and a heart.”
“So that’s really it? You did this because your feelings were hurt?”
“No, I did it because you needed me to. You see, I turned it around. I fixed you. Now, thanks to me, your eyes are open and you’re not fooling yourself anymore. Someday, you’ll see that and thank me.”
He’d heard enough. He spun around, hands clenched into tight fists, emotions pounding through his body. He was confused and hurt and sad and furious, all at the same time. He’d been betrayed by a woman he’d once considered a good friend. In one respect, he’d love to bring her down for what she’d done, and Becker for the part he’d played in it too. He’d lost a job he’d worked hard to earn.
But he was done with them, with games, with the shit. He left, not speaking another word.
He realized, after sitting down that night and taking a good, long look at his relationship with Stacy, that the only way to deal with someone like her was to walk away. Fate had a way of taking care of the rest.
At least, in the long run, she’d taught him some things about himself. Maybe she was right. Maybe someday he’d thank her.
Chapter Seven
“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. Like I’ve said before, you don’t have to do anything to prove something to me.” Kyler stood inside his front door, his fingers curled around the handle. He was wearing his typical Dom gear—leather pants, and leather strap harness that showed off his amazing upper body. “If I officially present you to the group tonight, instead of just having you there as my guest, you’re going to be nude, touched by strangers, expected to play the part of perfect submissive. Not to mention, you may see me play with other submissives, both men and women.”
Elena couldn’t remember ever being so nervous. She didn’t even try to hide it. Kyler knew her well enough to recognize the signs, trembling hands, stuttering voice. Over the past year, they’d spent a lot of time together, both in the dungeon and out. Talking. Touching. Sharing. Exploring. In that time, they’d grown, both as a couple and individually. Elena had learned a great deal about herself, thanks to Kyler. Like how hard it was for her to trust. And she’d helped him come to terms with a few issues too. Like how he avoided being vulnerable, stepping out of his Dom shoes and kneeling at the feet of the woman he loved. It had been both the most challenging and wonderful thirteen months of Elena’s life. “I know. I understand. But like you said, you don’t have intercourse with them. Right? And no one will expect intercourse from me either.”
“That’s right. It’s very different with you, my lover, than it would be with a submissive seeking only a Dom. And no Dom or Domme is going to even touch you without my permission, let alone demand intercourse.”
“I think I’m ready.”
“Okay.” He went back to the dungeon and gathered some toys in a bag. “Just in case you decide you want to play,” he explained. “No pressure. If you just want to watch that’s okay too. And I want you to tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable or want to leave.”
“Okay.”
“You can’t wear that outfit if you’re going to be presented. Go change.” He gave her jean-clad bottom a playful swat, sending her upstairs giggling. She wiggled into a g-string and fishnet body stocking and clomped downstairs in a pair of outrageously high shoes. On top went the white mink coat Kyler had given her the night of their first official date. “Ready?”
“Yep.” She held Kyler’s hand as they walked out to the waiting limo. “You said tonight’s sort of a Christmas celebration?” The official holiday was still over a week away, their second Christmas Day together. She didn’t care if Kyler gave her nothing. She was just grateful to have him in her life. He’d already given her so many things—beautiful clothes, expensive jewelry, himself. She couldn’t imagine anything that would be better or more meaningful anyway. He’d totally spoiled her.
“You might call it that. There won’t be any Christmas carols or hot chocolate but there’s usually a nice buffet and soft drinks. And some of the members exchange gifts.”
“Are you giving anyone a present this year?”
“Only one.” He didn’t say more and she didn’t want to pry, although she was seriously curious to find out who had earned a Christmas present from the man she’d fallen in love with. Was it a fellow Dom or maybe one special sub? “The Christmas play party is always at Master Blade’s private dungeon. Last year, you weren’t quite ready for it.”
Master Blade—who she guessed had not been born with that name—was obviously filthy rich, like old-money, rolling-in-it rich. His estate sat on one of Michigan’s most well-known roads, Lakeshore Drive, the rear backing Lake St. Clair. A long winding driveway took them through the walled, wooded lot to the house. A uniformed servant opened the limo’s door, and Kyler stepped from the car. Elena followed him up the brick home’s front steps to the polished wood door. Elena had never seen a house as big and beautiful as this one.
Inside, the building was as grand and breathtaking as its exterior. The foyer’s ceiling soared at least three stories up, and the biggest crystal chandelier she’d ever seen hung overhead.
“This way.” Kyler led her to a small room to the right. “One last chance. If you want to just watch, you can keep your clothes on. But if you want me to officially present you to the group this time, you’ll need to take everything off.”
She glanced at a pair of mostly nude women wearing leather collars, g-strings and harnesses, standing nearby. Her heart was drumming against her breastbone, keeping a rapid tempo. And her hands were shaking, mouth so dry she swore her tongue was going to crack. But she still wanted to do this, wanted to become a part of this world. “I’m sure.”
The two women in g-strings helped her out of her coat, body stocking and g-string. She felt terribly self-conscious as she left the room. It was amazing how much security a mostly transparent fishnet garment could give her.
Kyler eyed her intensely, his gaze traveli
ng up and down her body. “This is it. Ready?”
How could she say no when she knew this meant so much to him? She pulled in a deep breath, let it out and clasped her shaking hands together behind her back. “Yes, Master. I’m ready.” She held her breath as she took little baby steps behind him, down the hallway to the pair of double doors at the end. She could hear the sounds of the party inside, voices, music.
When the doors opened, it was like a wave of sensation rolled over her. The scents of perfume and pine and sex. The distant sounds of slapping, and closer, voices, music. And the many, many bodies, tall and thin, short and stout, all shapes and sizes and in various forms of undress.
“This way.” Kyler led her past dozens of curious onlookers to the room’s center, beneath a glittering chandelier where light played out across the room in twinkling mini-starbursts. “Present, Elena.” He then moved away from her, walking toward one end of the room, leaving her to present as they’d practiced at home every day.
She’d imagined it would be like this, both scary and thrilling. But she’d had no idea how thrilling it would be. She lifted her chin, pushed her shoulders back and, staring straight ahead while avoiding making eye contact with any Doms or Dommes within eyesight, walked across the empty floor. When she was within about four feet from Kyler, she slowly, as gracefully as she could manage, eased to her knees.
She hadn’t fallen over, twisted an ankle or stumbled like an idiot. She was actually able to inhale freely for the first time since arriving at this place.
Now the easy part. On all fours, she crawled toward him, stopping about eighteen inches from his feet. Finally, she took the presentation position he favored when they played at home. Back arched, eyes down, bottom up off her heels, knees spread and hands resting on her thighs.
She stared blindly at the gleaming wood floor and listened to the room fall silent. Everything seemed to stop, the voices, music. She didn’t have to look up to know that everyone was looking at her.