Expecting Surrender (Dominion Trust Book 3)

by Trent Evans

  “For fuck’s sake, what’s going on here, Tom?” Keihl lowered his voice. “Why is Sharon wearing a fucking chain around her ankles?”

  “This is what we do, Keihl. It’s actually pretty tame compared to the usual. I had to convince her to tone it down some. I didn’t want you to freak.”

  “Mission failure,” Keihl muttered.

  Why was he lying to Tom?

  “Yeah, guess so.” Tom rubbed his chin. “Look, I brought you here because I wanted to show you how things can be. If you and Kirsten want them to be, that is.”

  “What is this then? A little bondage? Some slap and tickle?”

  Tom’s brow quirked. “Quite a bit more involved than that.”

  “So?”

  “Why do you think I brought up Jacqueline?”

  Oh Jesus. Here we go.

  “You tell me, Tom. Apparently I’m on the outside looking in here. Joke’s on me, right?”

  “This isn’t a joke, Keihl. We’re serious about this.”

  “All right, tell me then. What is this?”

  “Sharon’s my slave.”

  “What?” Keihl slammed his fork down, and stood up. He walked over to the rail and leaned over it. “Like whips and chains, ‘yes, Master, no Master’ type shit?”

  “She never says ‘no’ to me, but yes, sometimes it’s like that.” Tom chuckled. “Look, it’s not anything weird or sick. It’s just how we are, and we both love it.”

  Keihl turned, leaning his ass against the rail, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t know if I want to talk about this, man. What the fuck.”

  “I know, I know. Too quick. I fucked this up royally,” Tom said, frowning. “Just try to listen though.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  Keihl looked at his friend. He should be shocked at his calm, professional friend revealing the gigantic secret freak flag he apparently flew. But thinking back on Jacqueline, things made more sense. It was just odd and not a little disappointing that he’d known this man for almost fifteen years, and not known this about him. Maybe he’d just been kidding himself.

  Not the only thing you kid yourself about, asshole.

  “Does she do whatever you tell her to do? You give her … orders?”

  Tom nodded. “Anything. If I told her to get on her knees and suck your cock, she’d do it. Gladly.”

  Gladly?

  “I’m not fucking your wife, Tom,” Keihl said, jabbing a finger at his friend.

  “Relax, relax,” Tom said, laughing. “I’m not telling her to. Don’t worry. I’d never ruin what you have with Kirsten. It’s a beautiful thing.”

  “Damn right it is. I love my wife.” Keihl hoped it didn’t come off as too strident, but he did love her, with all his heart. It just had upset the applecart for him a little to be as turned on as he was at the thought of Tom’s wife kneeling in front of him, her glossy pink lips tight around his cock.

  He wiped his face with both hands, hard.

  “I know you liked what you saw with Jackie. You admitted as much.”

  “Under duress. You got me drunk.”

  “Bullshit.” Tom rose and sat on the table, his feet up on the seat. “You don’t have to pretend. That’s the point here.”

  “The point? This is down the rabbit hole shit for me, Tom. You have to know that.”

  Tom shrugged. “Maybe, but something tells me when you’re alone tonight, your lovely wife lying next to you, you’ll be thinking about it. That’s the way I was when I was first exposed to this.”

  “You were?”

  Tom’s lips curved in a half smile. “I ran like hell. Thought it was completely fucked up, to be honest. Then I thought about it, and thought about it some more.”

  Keihl put his hands in his pockets, looking down. “This is messed up, Tom. I don’t think I can — I don’t know.”

  “No, it’s not messed up. And liking it isn’t messed up either.”

  “Does she… agree to this?”

  “Most of it, yes.”

  “Most of it? You force her sometimes?” Keihl stiffened, and Tom’s expression darkened for a moment.

  He knew the next few seconds might spell the end of his friendship with Tom. This was too messed up. Truly.

  “It’s a lot more complicated than that. I don’t forcibly rape my own wife, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Keihl let out a breath, rubbing the tension from his neck. This was all uncharted territory. He had no idea what to say, what to ask. Despite all that, despite the tension he felt, something about this called to him, fascinated him. He had to know more.

  “It’s one of the reasons why we wanted to have you up here. To just show you, so you’d understand. Plus, I think it would be good for Sharon.”

  “Good for her? What?”

  “She sometimes does better when she has others around. I think I bore her sometimes. She needs to be challenged occasionally.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you mean — and I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “Sure you do. Why lie about it? Nobody’s going to judge you.”

  “Judge me for what? I’m not the one who has his wife in chains.”

  “But you like it.”

  Keihl turned away, waving his hand to the side. “Just like with Jacqueline, right?”

  “You said it, not me.”

  He turned his head, looking at Tom out of the corner of his eye. “I thought you were an OB, not a shrink?”

  “Trust me, when you own a slave, you’ll have to learn psychology. It’s an owner’s burden to bear, I’m afraid.”

  Keihl began to pace, hands in his pockets, the wood of the deck creaking under his feet. “I don’t know how I’ve known you this long and not known about this. It’s — weird.”

  “You know as much as I let you know. It’s not your fault when your friend keeps it from you.”

  “It pisses me off, actually. Not that I want you to talk about the most intimate details of your sex life. I don’t want to know.”

  “Good,” Tom said, smiling. “I’d have to start calling you Keihla then.”

  “Prick.”

  “Listen, Keihl. Seriously. There’s more I want to show you. A lot more. But I want to be sure you’re ready for it. No dumping you into the deep end.”

  “Thanks, Tom — I guess.”

  “Shut up. If I thought this wasn’t something you might be open to, then I wouldn’t have told you. I wouldn’t have even thought of it really until Sharon connected the dots for me.”

  “Sharon?”

  “Yeah, I know right? A sharp administrator sees the big picture, spots the patterns. Well, she did it with you when I told her about that little incident with Jacqueline.”

  “Jesus, Tom. You told her about that? Why the hell would she want to talk about that?”

  “We have no secrets between each other, Keihl. None.”

  He stopped pacing, his hand raised palm up. “How did she connect the dots? Am I such a fucking open book?”

  “Hardly,” Tom said, his eyebrow raised. “You keep things damned close to the vest, my friend. You picked the right profession. But she picked up on it.”

  “Hey, where is Sharon?”

  “Would you like to talk to her?” Tom’s eyes brightened, and he clasped his hands together over one knee.

  “Of course. But it’s like she’s hiding from me. What’s the deal?”

  “Can you be cool with what you see?”

  “Tom.” Keihl shook his head. “Maybe it’s time you called that ride for me. This is a lot to wrap my head around.”

  “I understand.” Tom pulled out his phone and called someone named Nathan. After a short conversation, Tom slipped the phone back into his pocket, waving at Keihl.

  “Come on, let’s go inside to wait. Mosquitoes are getting thick out here anyway.”

  Tom and Keihl sat down in the sunken living room, dark pile carpeting and the heavy gray drapes helping to lend the room a quiet coziness that Keihl
appreciated. This was the one room that didn’t have Sharon’s decorating touch. It was sparse, but comfortable. He sank into the deep cushions of the wide couch. It was the kind of couch he could fall asleep in.

  “What are you going to tell Kirsten?”

  Keihl scratched the nape of his neck. “Not sure I’m gonna tell her anything. Got no clue how she’d react.”

  “Want to get a hint?” Tom picked up a huge remote control, flipping on some low music. Some trippy acid jazz with a serpentine bass line.

  “How would I get a hint about something like that?”

  “Spy.”

  “Oh, great. Follow her around with some cloak and dagger action? Stellar idea.”

  “No, dipshit. Nothing like that. Does she have a tablet or an e-reader?”

  Keihl snorted. “All of the above. She’s a tech girl. I think she even bought one of those fire sale tablets they were selling for ninety-nine bucks, just to say she had one.”

  Tom smiled. “Check them. All of them. See what she reads.”

  “Reads?”

  “Yes. It’s like a window into their secret club. They keep this information from us men — though I have no idea why — then expect us to divine what they really want.”

  “Diamonds. Big ones.”

  Tom’s eyebrow lifted. “What?”

  “Never mind. You were saying, Deepak?”

  “Fuck you. Anyway, I mean find out what kind of books she reads. I’d be willing to bet you’ll be floored by them.”

  “How? It doesn’t matter anyway. I already know what she reads. Some romance, some mysteries — a thriller once in a while.”

  “Wrong, pal.” Tom grinned.

  “She leaves the books all over the house. Kind of obvious.”

  “Those are the ones she feels comfortable about. Trust me. I’ll bet she reads other stuff too.”

  “Like what?” Keihl checked his watch. It was almost nine.

  A muffled peal of classical strings erupted from somewhere and Tom dug into his pocket.

  “Hang on, Keihl.” Tom punched in a text message, then dropped the phone on the table.

  “What’s up?”

  Tom frowned. “One of my patients called in with strong Braxton-Hicks. They may have to admit her. Probably false alarm, but you never know.”

  A horn honked outside. They both stood up.

  “Listen, Keihl. I want to have you back out here soon. Think about it and let me know.”

  “Okay, yeah, that’ll be good.”

  He shook Tom’s hand and they walked out to the driveway. The dusk was rapidly fading to the oppressive black night only found away from city lights. A large black vehicle, some sort of truck, idled out front.

  “Keihl, something you should think about tonight when you sneak in the door.”

  He turned back to his friend. Tom’s tanned arms were crossed over his chest and he leaned a shoulder against one of the porch pillars.

  “Sharon’s in the kitchen right now eating her dinner. From a bowl. On the floor. Next time you’re here you can watch her eat, if you want. It’s great fun. Good night, Keihl.” Tom flashed a devilish grin, and walked back inside.

  Keihl stood, stunned for a moment. “Holy shit.”

  “Hey, you ready to roll? I can get you back by ten if we head out now.”

  A man with a neatly trimmed dark goatee leaned out of the driver’s window.

  “Oh yeah, sure,” Keihl said. “Front or back?”

  “Hop in the front if you want. It’s a boring drive without some company.”

  * * *

  “Name’s Nathan.”

  The driver offered his hand as Keihl climbed up into the passenger seat.

  “Keihl Warren. Nice to meet you.”

  “Haven’t seen you out here before, Mr. Warren. Are you part of the Trust?”

  “Excuse me? Trust?”

  There it was again. Maybe there was a chance to learn something here.

  “Oh, uhh.” Nathan craned his head back as he shifted the truck into reverse. “Never mind. I thought you were — shit.”

  “Do you know Tom?”

  Nathan flicked a glance at him, nodding, then pulled the big truck onto the road. The engine roared as they accelerated up to speed.

  Keihl looked around the rather well-appointed interior. He finally realized what the vehicle was — a Hummer H2.

  “Not exactly your typical town car or limo,” Keihl said, waving his hand around.

  “Not exactly what this is, Mr. Warren.”

  Nathan grinned, his teeth bright against the dark goatee.

  Keihl peered over his shoulder. There was some sort of wire mesh behind the back seat. A cage?

  “So… what is this then? Do you work for Tom?”

  If Tom had a limo service, Keihl was definitely going to grill his friend on just what he did on the side.

  Nathan shook his head. “Work for the Trust.”

  “Trust? How do you mean? Is that a bank or something?”

  “Dominion Trust.” Nathan’s face was awash in the ghostly glow of the dash lights, sliding a glance at Keihl.

  Keihl looked out the passenger window, struck once again by the blackness of night away from the city. “Tom mentioned something about that. Some kind of club?”

  “You could say that, yeah.” Nathan fiddled with the climate controls. “You cold? Warm?”

  “Just fine where it is, thanks.”

  They drove in silence for a few minutes. Keihl wondered if he was drunker than he’d thought, his head swimming in response to every bump and jounce in the ride. He rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger.

  “Tired, Mr. Warren?”

  “Beat. A little tipsy too I guess.” He crooked a rueful smile.

  “Mr. Forster mentioned you might not be feeling so hot.”

  “You know that reminds me, Nathan. If you aren’t a taxi service or a limo service, then why did he call you?”

  Nathan looked left and shifted lanes, the brittle clicking of the blinker loud in the cab. “I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d give him a hand.”

  “I see. Just in the neighborhood — in the middle of nowhere?”

  Nathan stayed silent, frowning.

  “You must have dogs,” Keihl said. “Show them or something?”

  “Dogs?”

  Keihl hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah. That’s a dog cage back there, right?”

  Nathan looked back over his shoulder. “Oh — dogs. Uh, yeah.”

  Keihl wasn’t sure he liked the quick twitch of Nathan’s mouth.

  “So tell me about the Dominion Trust. You guys must be doing pretty well, floating all that money for part of Tom’s down like that. What is it into? Real estate? Must be hurting right now, if it is.”

  “It’s actually very diversified, got interests in a lot of areas.”

  “Even transportation, apparently?” Keihl smacked Nathan on the arm with his knuckles, grinning.

  Nathan smiled back. “Oh sure.”

  Time to take another tack.

  “You got a family? A girl maybe?”

  Nathan gave a quick nod. “A girl.”

  “Yeah? How long?”

  Nathan braked suddenly, cursing as a car merged into his lane too closely. He glanced at Keihl. “Pretty serious. Been together — wow, five years now?”

  “You gonna marry her?”

  “We’re already committed.”

  Keihl rubbed his chin. It was turning into an interrogation, and he was getting nowhere. He was tired. Slipping into the cool sheets of his bed, and pressing himself against his wife’s warm, naked body sounded very nice indeed. He was looking at a vicious hangover in the morning though.

  They rode in silence the rest of the way into the city. When the truck pulled up to Keihl’s house, Nathan held out a business card to him. “Been a pleasure, Mr. Warren. You ever need a lift, or just help with anything. Anything at all. You call me.”

  The card read: “Nathan G
raham” with his phone number beneath the embossed blocky lettering of The Dominion Trust.

  “Uh okay, that’s — kind of you, Nathan.” Keihl took the card and shook Nathan’s hand. “I’ll keep ya in mind.”

  It was fucking weird, but it was the perfect fitting capper to a truly weird night.

  “Goodnight, Nathan. Thanks for the ride.”

  “Anytime, Mr. Warren. We’ll have your car delivered to you in the morning.”

  “No, no. That’s not necessary.”

  Nathan held up his hand. “Already done, sir. Mr. Forster gave clear direction on that. Have a good night.”

  Keihl waved as the Hummer pulled away, then looked down at the card.

  Fucking weird, all right.

  Chapter Six

  “So… what did you think of it?” Joely’s voice was the low, urgent whisper of a conspirator.

  Kirsten shrugged. “It was okay, I guess.”

  Joely’s slim eyebrows lifted. “Just okay? What was wrong with it? Everybody I’ve loaned that thing to didn’t want to give it back.”

  Kirsten opened the menu, but couldn’t decide what to order. How could she tell Joely? She couldn’t. Not really. “I don’t know. It was fine — just didn’t really do it for me.”

  Joely smiled, combing her fingers through her blonde ponytail. “Too kinky for you?”

  Oh, if you only knew, Joely.

  Kirsten looked up over her menu. “I don’t know about that. It just didn’t seem… real.”

  “It’s fiction, honey. It’s not supposed to be real. Most of the girls who’ve read it wanted to jump their husbands afterward though. It’s that good.”

  “Not really a problem with us.”

  “Really? You guys are hardly ever home at the same time. Got a long distance romance thing going?”

  “He’s home enough. We find the time, believe me.” Kirsten winked.

  Their waiter walked up to the table. “Can I get you ladies something to drink? A glass of wine perhaps?” He was a young guy, maybe nineteen or twenty at the most. Kirsten felt like a cradle-robber for noticing the width of his shoulders and his clear blue eyes. She needed to think about something else.

  “Nothing for me, thanks.” Kirsten said, waving her hand.