I know what I promised myself when I concocted my scheme all those weeks ago. Leo said no. I gave it my best and he rejected me. Today is the day I’m supposed to pull myself together and get on with my life. But I can’t. Not quite yet.
I’ve thought about it. Chewed over every second of the night in my head, and I can’t get over the feeling I’m missing something. That Leo has left out some puzzle piece to throw me off his trail. I get the whole dominant claim, and why he doesn’t think I fit into that mold, but I still don’t feel like I have an answer.
There must be something in it for these women he controls. Yes, he gave bits and pieces of the how, but not the why. Or the reward.
The questions niggle at me, and I think about them all morning, stewing. I do some research on Google, typing in domination and submission, and scrolling through endless pages of information. But I must not be searching the right things because ninety percent of what comes up is fantasy, porn, or ads for Dominatrix. The few useful websites I did find didn’t really get into the heart of my question. It showed me passion but I didn’t feel closer to understanding.
I drum my fingers on my table, staring at the ticking clock over my fridge, my mind spinning.
Finally, I force myself to consider the possibility I’m wrong and Leo is right. That, despite the kiss to end all kisses, at our core we are too incompatible to work. And I’m not heartless or selfish—I don’t want him to have to hold back who or what he is because of me. I’d never be that unfair.
And I can’t pretend it’s not hard for me to see past the trappings of what I see on the Internet and envision it for more than a night. But I also don’t feel like I really understand. So how can I be certain without the knowledge?
Aren’t all the years I’ve pined for Leo worth a couple days of exploration to find out the truth? To see and make sure. To test the waters and the boundaries of what I’m capable of?
My first instinct is to call Leo, but he made it pretty clear if I wanted answers I had to get them myself. That leaves only two other people. Michael, who—duh—is totally off the table. And Brandon.
I look at the clock. It’s ten in the morning.
I pick up my cell and press Brandon’s number. He answers with a groggy, “Hello.”
“It’s Jillian, did I wake you?”
There’s a pause and rustle over the line. “It’s okay, it was time anyway. Since you’re calling I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”
“No, it did not.”
“I’m sorry, baby doll.”
I smile, feeling instantly better. He has some sort of calming influence on me. “I have questions.”
“I’m sure you do.” His voice has lost the sleepiness and he sounds fully awake.
He’ll give me my unvarnished answers. Whether I like them or not. Unlike Leo who’s trying to protect me from his apparently vampire-like magnetism. I’m already feeling better. Plans give me energy. “So, how’d you like to buy me breakfast?”
He laughs. “I have to answer questions and pay for breakfast?”
“You drive a Mercedes, I drive a 2005 Volkswagen Beetle, so yes.”
“But we’re friends, right? Sex isn’t magically on the table, is it?”
The easiness between us is a welcome relief from all the tension that’s been flooding my system the last twenty-four hours. “Doubtful, but you can always hope.”
He sighs, a long exasperated sound. “I need coffee before I can handle this conversation.”
“Well, come get me.”
Another sigh. “Give me your address, I’ll be there in thirty.”
“Thank you, you’re a god among men.”
“You know, I hear that all the time.”
I laugh, and everything feels a bit brighter. “Stop bragging and pick me up.”
“I knew you were trouble from the second I laid eyes on you.”
“Goodbye, Brandon.”
Forty-five minutes later, breakfast is ordered, and we’ve drunk three cups of coffee all the while teasing each other good-naturedly. I smile at him and fling my ponytail over my shoulder. “I’ve decided to add you to my best friend list.”
Brandon flashes those dimples at me. “I’m not sure if I’m honored or insulted. Just don’t tell anyone, or my reputation will be ruined.”
“Deal, bestie.”
“God help me.” He scrubs a hand over his chin. “So are you going to stop stalling and tell me what happened?”
I wrinkle my nose. “I’m wanting to live with my fantasies a bit longer.”
He raises a brow. “And what fantasies might those be?”
“That you can fix this.”
He takes a sip of his coffee. “Yes, that is a fantasy.”
I sigh. “I know that’s asking way too much, but I think at the bare minimum you could answer some questions.”
He nods. “So I assume Leo at least told you he’s dominant, correct?”
“He did. Although I really don’t know exactly what that means.” I blow out an exasperated breath. “He talked about how he expects complete control. That the women he’s involved with have to do what he says, and when I said I had a hard time seeing what’s in it for me he just said, well there’s your answer. Case closed.” I wave a hand in the air. “He said submissive girls like it, but I don’t know, I just don’t get it.”
Brandon rolls his eyes. “Go on.”
“Then I had to force him to kiss me, he did, and it was awesome. But then he told me it was no use, went on and on about refusing to coerce me, and took me home. He finished it off with the ‘someday you’ll find a nice guy’ speech. I stormed out. End of story.”
The waitress comes up at that moment and delivers our omelets, smiling at Brandon before purring, “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“I’m good, darlin’.”
Her eyes flick to me. “And you?”
“I’m good.”
Her gaze lingers on Brandon and when she leaves I say, “I think someone likes you.”
He winks at me. “Not my type.”
I laugh, and take a forkful of my eggs. “So anyway, that pretty much sums it up.”
He rubs his eyes and sighs. “I hate to say this, but I think Leo might actually be in love with you.”
I stare at him, my mouth hanging open. “That’s what you got from my story?”
“Strangely, yes. That’s the only logical reason a man would make such a mess of things.”
It should give me hope, but doesn’t. Because Leo’s about as stubborn as I am. “Well, he’s determined we’re incompatible, and honestly, I don’t really think I’m into this whole domination thing. I’m not too keen on keeping my mouth shut and being the mindless little drone he described. But at bare minimum, I’d like to at least understand before I call it quits and move on.”
Brandon strums his fingers on his mug, seeming lost in thought.
I take a bite of hash browns and wait for some sort of information that will illuminate the situation.
Finally, he focuses his attention back on me. “Submissives are not mindless little drones. Yes, there are women who go to that extreme, but it’s not the rule. In fact, the best submissives are smart as hell, powerful, confident women who know their own minds.”
I frown. “That’s not how he described it. He said they need the discipline and structure someone like him provides.”
A look of frustration passes over his features. “Yes, that’s true on the barest surface. It’s more like the structure and discipline affords them the freedom to let go. Being pushed, or given no option releases everything pent up inside them. Stripping away their defenses and daily responsibilities, allows them to give in to their darkest desires.”
Curious now, I nod. “I’m not sure how that happens, but at least I’m starting to understand a part of the why.”
“Ah, so you can see the appeal?”
I shrug. “Isn’t that what we all want? To be free? It’s just an…interesting way to
get there.”
He smiles. “Indeed it is.”
I point my fork in his direction. “Next question. He talked about how if he came home from work I’d have to stop what I’m doing and take care of his sexual needs if that’s what he wanted. I mean, I get why a guy would like sex on demand, but I just don’t understand it from her end.”
Again he thinks before shaking his head. “I swear I’m going to kill him. Can I tell you a story about Leo? I thought about using myself, but since Leo’s determined to paint himself into the biggest asshole ever, maybe an example showing his true nature would be better. Although I will warn you it involves a woman he was with and I don’t know your tolerance.”
I smooth my ponytail. “It’s not my favorite subject, but I know he’s had girlfriends and I want to understand enough to put aside my petty jealousy.”
Brandon narrows his eyes. “You’re an interesting woman.”
“Thank you.” I am interesting, damn it…why can’t I make Leo see that?
“Do you happen to remember Leo’s last, more serious girlfriend?”
I nod.
“And you understand how he is? What type of woman he’s attracted to?”
“Yes.”
He takes a bite of toast, chews then swallows, watching me closely the whole time “Do you remember Carolynn’s profession?”
“She was a DA, wasn’t she?”
“And did she in any way strike you as a meek little doormat?”
I drop my fork. “No she did not.” I’d hated her. She was a tall, lithe Swedish beauty that had been whip smart. “Wait? Are you telling me… Her?”
Brandon grins. “Yes, she was submissive.”
“But…she used to disagree with him all the time.”
“Of course she did, Jillian.” He shrugs. “Sure, half the time she was probably angling for a spanking, it was a little game he used to indulge, but she had a mind of her own and she exercised her voice quite readily.”
My temples start to ache and my puzzlement grows. “I’m so confused.”
“Let me tell you a story, about the time he brought her to my club. Is that okay?”
“Yes please.” I’m eager now, ready to soak it all in. Brandon is about a thousand times more forthcoming than Leo and I’m going to take advantage, even if I have to hear about the gorgeous woman Leo used to date.
Brandon gives me a curious look before nodding. “One night Leo brought her to the club because he wanted to test out some exhibitionist tendencies she had, but was afraid of.”
“Wait.” I hold up my hand. “What does that mean?”
He tilts his head. “Have you ever had a fantasy that scared you but made you wet?”
My darkest thoughts race like lightning through my mind. My stomach heats and tightens at the wayward fantasies I don’t like to think about.
Brandon laughs. “I see the yes on your face, baby doll.”
I blush furiously and try and hide my embarrassment behind my coffee cup. “Your story.”
Another flash of those dimples. “Exhibitionism was one of hers. She wanted it, but it scared her. So Leo decided to give her a taste of being watched in a safe way. He arranged this with me beforehand, and after they’d been at the club a while he brought her into my private room. The three of us talked, and after she believed she was safe from any deviousness, and getting quite pouty because of it, he made her strip and lie across the coffee table that separated us.”
I gape, losing all pretense of eating. A mixture of horror, shock, intrigue, jealousy and every other volatile emotion storms away inside me. “Really?”
“Really.” Brandon’s amusement is clear. “By the time he touched her, she was so wet I was afraid she might slide off the table. We stayed that way for most of the night, and periodically, while the two of us chatted away—she also enjoyed some erotic humiliation, but that’s a different topic all together—he’d play with her breasts and clit while I watched. Sometimes he’d tease her, sometimes make her come.”
I’m on the edge of my seat. I’m hot. I’m cold. And everything in between.
Brandon’s gaze dips to my lips before he meets my stunned gaze. “The last man you were with, the last time you fucked him, how many orgasms did you have?”
Throat dry, I swallow hard and manage to croak out, “None.” In fairness to him, it was the end of the relationship.
Something flickers across his features. “Do you know how many orgasms she had that night?”
I shake my head. Fearing the answer and wanting it all the same.
“Ten.” Brandon smiles when my mouth drops even farther open. “After the tenth he cut her off, telling her she was too greedy and she wouldn’t get any more for the rest of the night. And, of course, that just made her more wet.” He sighs. “But, alas, that’s not the point of the story. While you might not quite understand some of her desires, you can certainly see what she got out of the experience, now don’t you?”
I’ve never had ten orgasms in my life. Hell, I’ve never had more than two.
“She did what she was told, and she was certainly at Leo’s mercy, but the reward was quite great. Don’t you think?”
Still unable to form words, I nod.
He leans forward and puts his hands on the table. “And tell me something else, Jillian. That girl on the table? Lying spread out, naked and exposed before Leo and me, who are you imagining? Carolynn? Or yourself?”
I gasp as heat fills me.
When I don’t answer, Brandon raises a brow. “Well, girl? Who is it?”
I shiver, confused, slightly turned on, and scared. “It’s me.”
Blue eyes glittering, Brandon’s expression turns hard. “Of course it is.”
“But why? That’s not who I am.”
“I think I see you more objectively than Leo, who clearly has his head up his ass. If it’s not who you are, ask yourself this—why, when I told you to be quiet last night, did you?”
I frown, my fingers like a vise around my coffee cup. “You asked me to.”
“So? I saw you struggling to keep quiet, but you did. Why?”
“I-I don’t know. I didn’t see the harm. And I was curious.”
“I’ll tell you what I told Leo yesterday—I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you picked me out of the crowd, any more than I think it’s a coincidence that Leo is the one guy you can’t get over. So the question is, what are you going to do with the information?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to have to process this out.”
“Fair enough.” His expression loses the hardness and he grins. “I won’t tell Leo I turned you on.”
The moment of intensity that captured me is gone. I throw a napkin at him. “Just a little bit.”
He laughs. “And for the record, right there, when you were on the edge of your seat, unable to breathe, feeling hot and needy and wet, that’s what it feels like when you’re submissive and a dominant takes control. That feeling you had, is the why. You can hide from it now, and maybe you’ll be able to push it aside, but the chances are it will probably bubble back up and force you to deal with it. So I want you to be prepared.”
I bite my lip. “How do you know all this?”
“Experience, lots and lots of experience.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I like you, Jillian. We have a funny, interesting little chemistry, don’t you think? Like friends with a kick of heat.”
Actually that’s a good description. “Yes, I see what you mean.”
“So I hope you understand when I say this, I mean it in the best, and most friendly way possible, because I have a feeling you and I are destine to be great friends.”
“I thought the same thing last night.” Because that’s how he feels, even though I don’t know why.
“Me too.” He flashes his dimples again and picks up his fork. “I’m stating for the record, that I have every intention of telling this to Leo too, so everything is above board. When it bubbles up, i
f Leo won’t help you deal with it, I will. And I can promise you—the next time someone asks you how many orgasms you had the last time you were fucked—the answer is not going to be zero.”
Leo
I’m in a foul mood, and have been all day. I cannot get last night with Jillian out of my head.
My phone rings and I ignore the flair of hope that rises furiously in my chest. I glance down at the ID. It’s Brandon. The last person I want to talk to. I bark into the phone. “What?”
“I see someone didn’t get laid last night,” he says with that cool, collected rich-boy smirk in his voice.
“Fuck. Off.”
“I’m downstairs, let me up.”
“Go away.”
“I think you’re going to want to hear this.”
I growl and hang up the phone, buzzing him up.
I slept like hell. I feel like hell. My temper is short, and cop instinct warns me I really don’t want to hear whatever Brandon wants to say.
He walks in like he stepped out of some sort of magazine, and one look at his face makes me want to punch him. He throws his keys on the end table and drops down onto the chair.
I cock a brow.
He laces his hands over his stomach. “So, I’ve got to wonder if you might be the biggest fucking idiot in the world.”
I am definitely not in the mood for this. I scrub my hand over my stubbled jaw. “You’ve lost me.”
“I had breakfast with Jillian.” He crosses a foot over his knee. “Impressive work there last night.”
Yeah. I’m going to kill him. I say through a clenched jaw, “You do realize I have a gun, don’t you?”
He smiles, all chilled out and relaxed. “Would you like to know what we discussed?”
I used to be like that, and right now the fact that I’m anything but seems like his fault. “Fashion tips? Where to get your nails done.”
One thought pounds in my head. She called him. Out of all people, she went to him. It makes sense, but I sure as hell don’t like it.
He shifts in the chair and sighs. “What exactly is your problem with Jillian?”
“You don’t understand, and this isn’t any of your fucking business.”
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