Like all bullies, the minute he was out of harm’s way, Randy was already getting his insecurity-driven false confidence back, and spat, “This is ridiculous.”
“There’s no need to lay an egg about it,” I said, glancing at Rochelle, who nearly lost it, “just work with her and everything will be fine. I appreciate how shell-shocked you must be, but if you give this a chance, everything will come out sunny-side up.”
Rochelle turned away and snorted, trying her best not to lose control.
“What is wrong with her?” the egg asked.
“She’s just eggstatic about the job,” I said, getting a weird look and then a head shake from the man.
There was so much he clearly wanted to say, but he bit his tongue as we discussed the schedule for them to get started.
I stepped away for a moment to take a call, leaving them to talk alone. When I returned, I was horrified by what I saw. Randy had his back to me, and Rochelle’s face had lost its enthusiasm. She was keeping herself together, but I could tell she was upset as I walked up silently behind Randy to hear him muttering the end of his sentence. “...whatever he thinks, you’ll still be a whore and we both know I’m not taking fucking direction from a whore.”
I spun the jackass around by his shoulder with my left hand and hammered his face with a strong right cross before he knew what was happening. The shriek he let out got the attention of the others in the club, some of whom had only just come in for their shift, but none of them moved to help him.
“YOU CAN'T…” Randy began to yell in a nasally voice as he clutched his surely broken nose. I didn’t let him finish. I landed a boot to the front of his round belly, which sent him tumbling backwards, and I was on top of him as he rolled into the column in the middle of the room. This time I took his collar with both hands and lifted him right off his feet, crushing his shoulders into the drywall around the support beam.
“I can do whatever I want here, and if I ever hear you speak unkindly to ANY woman in here, EVER again, you’ll need your mommy to blend your meals and feed you with a straw, since I’m sure you still live at home with her - you egg shaped fucking troll! If you so much as look disparagingly at Rochelle, you’ll never set foot back in this club again. Don’t think for one minute that I am unaware of the crimes you’ve been committing here. It’s not worth my time to look into them right now, but if you insist on being a problem, I may change my mind.” I punched him in the gut twice more, nearly making him puke before I released him, letting him slide back down to his feet while the weight of my threat sunk in and he slumped to the floor, crying like a baby.
“I hope you all understand how serious I am,” I said, looking around to the women who were watching with horror on their faces. “You don’t deserve what you’ve gotten from this pig, and I want this to be a pleasant work environment for you. If you have issues with your pay now that we are going legit, talk to Rochelle and we will make sure you are properly taken care of. You can come to either of us if he ever threatens you or asks you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
The bartender, the only other guy in the place, started to clap, a big smile stretched across his face, and the women all joined him.
Feeling like a million bucks, I took Rochelle’s hand, winning another smile from her, and led her back out to the car. Our visit there was done. The message was received.
The past month has been the most amazing one of my life. Blake is a dream come true. I still don’t know how I am lucky enough to be with such a wonderful, funny, caring, and sexy as hell man. How he picked me out of all the other beautiful women that come into his club is beyond me. He could easily be with someone more in his class, but he chose me. I really have nothing to offer him. My only trade is selling my soul to the devils themselves. I was reminded of that yesterday, when Congressman Carlisle came into the club when I was working. He started calling me a whore and saying that I am nothing more than a cheap toy. I was so relieved when Sammy threw him out. If Blake were there, holy hell would have been unleashed. I still don’t need Blake to protect me, but it feels good when he does. I don’t care for Sammy too much, but I was still glad he had my back yesterday. I am sure Blake told him to watch over me.
Blake hasn’t been home for the past couple days because he had to attend a business meeting in Florida. I am looking forward to having him home tonight. The king-sized bed feels too empty without him and the breakfast table is lonely without his morning routine of cracking jokes. I just miss everything about having him with me. I love him so damn much. I don’t know how much longer I can keep that to myself. The words are always right there on the tip of my tongue. I stop myself from saying them by biting my lower lip. I’m surprised I don’t have scars from my teeth by now.
I have spent the entire day preparing for Blake’s return this evening. I didn’t go to the club like I was supposed to. Instead, I went shopping. Even though I never wanted to step foot back into Abigail’s, I did, but only because Blake assured me I would have no future problems going there. I was pleasantly surprised that he was right. My shopping experience was nice. When I left there I went to the grocery store. I am making him a special dinner. I haven’t really had the opportunity yet to show off my cooking skills. I am changing that tonight by cooking him my best dish, Chicken Bruschetta Pasta. I think he will love it, however, I am hoping he loves what comes after dinner more. I have this entire night planned out. I just need to get my ass home to set it all up.
I sit at the foot of the bed. I open the package of thigh-high black stockings and carefully put them on, then I stand to attach them to the garter belt. I walk over to the full-length mirror. A wave of nerves rushes over me. I let out the breath I am holding when my phone pings with a text message.
Blake: I just landed. I should be home in twenty-five minutes.
I laugh - more like fifteen with his led foot. I bite my bottom lip when I send a reply.
Me: I’ll meet you at the door, so knock when you get here. I have a surprise for you.
Blake: Sounds exciting. Can I have a hint?
Me: Absolutely not! Don’t BRAKE any speed limits!
My attempt at a joke is lame. I put my phone down. I only have a few minutes left before he gets here. Now that he is so close to being home, I almost want to change my clothes, but I know in my heart I must follow through with this.
Earlier, I had set up the coffee table for our dinner. I could have used the dining room table, but this felt more romantic. I light the candles all around the room, then light the one on the coffee table. I take a deep breath when I hear a light tap on the door. It’s time.
I grab the bandana off the counter as I go to the door, I pull it open only a sliver. “I need you to close your eyes and keep them closed.”
“What are you up to?” His voice is filled with laughter, but I hear the curiosity in it as well.
“Close them, Mr. Hargreaves.”
“Okay, okay!”
I open the door wider and pull him inside. I take the bandana and tie it over his eyes. I remove his suit jacket before leading him further into our home. I take him to the living room and tell him to sit. It makes me giggle to be giving him commands.
“Don’t move,” I say before going to the kitchen and getting our dinner plates. I set them down in front of us. “Okay, you can remove the blindfold,” I tell him once I sit across from him.
“What is this? I mean, damn, Rochelle, if you are going to treat me with dinner and that outfit, I may do more business trips.”
I smile. I feel my shoulders relax. Okay, this isn’t a flop yet. But then, I wasn’t really worried about the dinner part of the evening. I am worried about what comes after dinner. I hope I don’t lose my nerve.
Blake clears his throat. “Sammy told me what happened yesterday.”
“Umm, I really don’t want to talk about that right now. I want tonight to be about us, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you are
alright. Your hands are shaky.” I watch as his eyes travel to my hands.
I had not realized that I was visibly shaking. If he only knew there is an earthquake erupting inside of me, he wouldn’t be questioning me right now. “I am fine. I have you home, what more could a girl want?!”
“Since this is about us, you know you can trust me, right? If someone ever talks to you like that again, I want to know about it from you.”
Blake takes the last bite of his meal. “Dinner was superb.”
My lips curve in a genuine smile. “Thank you.” I stand to clear the plates. “That was only half the surprise. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
I take the plates to the kitchen and set them on the counter. The knots in my stomach double. I hope to God I don’t regret doing this. I won’t be able to take it back. There’s something inside of me that says I must do this.
I come back to the living room and Blake has moved to the sofa. I pick up the gift-wrapped box and hand it to him. I can’t tell whether he is looking at the garter belt peeking out of the bottom of his white button-up shirt I am wearing or the box.
He opens the box and chuckles. “I like them. It’s a new color for me.”
“I need you to go and put them on for me, please.”
I can tell he doesn’t quite understand why I would buy him new silk pants. It wasn’t part of my plan until I saw them at Abigail’s today. My woman parts got all tinglingly thinking about him in maroon, silk pajama pants instead of his usual black ones.
Blake gets to his feet and kisses me before going to the bedroom to change. I unbutton his dress shirt and place it over the back of the sofa neatly. I get down to the submissive pose that most men I’ve been with like. My heart is beating a mile a minute in my chest. The last time I did this, he refused me.
“Rochelle,” his voice is stern, “what are you doing?”
Without lifting my head, I tell him, “There is a gift bag next to me. Open it.”
I peek through my lashes. Blake takes the leather cuffs that are lined with fur on the inside from the bag. “I don’t understand.”
“You want my trust. It’s the only way I know how you can earn it.”
“You want me to be one of your clients? I thought…”
I cut him off. “No, I want you to show me I can trust you. Words are not enough for me. I need to see and feel that I can give myself to you. I have been with many men, Blake. I never trusted any of them until they punished me and I saw that I was not harmed. I know you probably can’t understand it. I don’t need you to. I wouldn’t ask this of you unless I thought it would benefit our relationship.” He turns his back to me and that hurts. “You are a dominant man in the business world.”
“That’s different. That is business. I don’t want to be more powerful than you in this relationship. We are equals - or so I thought. We are not a business deal.”
“It’s who I am Blake. If you can’t do…” I stop the words coming from my mouth when he spins on his heels so fast that I flinch.
I close my eyes when he walks right past me. I want to take it all back. He is angry at me. I don’t blame him. I ruin everything good in my life. I gasp when he grabs my wrist. When he has my wrists restrained, he lifts me off the floor and places me on the sofa with my cheek resting on the back. My insides turn to mush as he runs his palm over my ass.
“Do it, Blake. Mark me as yours.”
“You’re not in charge here. You wanted me to take control, and that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
My body jolts forward as his palm lands on my ass. The sound carries around the room with each smack. By the time he yanks my panties down, I have lost count of how many times he has hit me, but I don’t really care. He is completely controlling my body, and I love it.
I moan. The way he is thrusting his hips, bringing us closer to climax is all I can think about. I moan again when he puts his hand to my throat and pulls my head back. He picks up his rhythm, and I am a heaping mess when the orgasm comes over me. Blake is out of breath as much as I am. When he falls on top of my limp body, I don’t know how the words come out through the panting, but they do.
“I love you, Blake.”
It had been a month of relative normalcy for both of us, full of love and laughter. After all the drama that had marked the beginning of our relationship, it was a welcome surprise, but deep down, I worried that it was only a matter of time before Rochelle’s trust issues relapsed, especially when I had to leave for a business trip. When I returned, she greeted me eagerly, saying she had a surprise for me, but her tone, and the shakiness in her body were red flags. I was prepared for the worst. It was a wonderful evening, but something told me that it was going to end badly. As I emerged from my room with my new, comfortable pajama pants, my fears were realized.
Seeing her on her knees was like a flashback to that night in her old apartment. Rochelle’s self-doubt broke my heart and I wondered what more I could have done to prevent this, but something else was bothering me too. It was my reaction. Despite my deep affection for her, and how much I genuinely wanted her to rise up and move past this idea of submission, I couldn’t deny the physical stirrings I felt. Seeing her there, kneeling before me, asking me to take control was intensely arousing.
I processed her words, anger and temptation fighting for control within me. The sincerity in her voice… could this be alright? Was I worried for nothing?
I had to act. Either walk away or run right into this storm. There were risks to both decisions, and I was far from sure when I made up my mind. What choice did I have but to take her at her word? She was talking about trust, and I wanted her to trust me. Walking away now could ruin that forever. If my choice was another barb to her self-confidence, I could try and heal that wound, but if I walked away, and she left - there may never be an opportunity to fix the damage. Part of me wanted this too. I wasn’t proud of it, but I couldn’t deny the truth.
I bound her wrists together, feeling tension rising in my body as though I was about to do something for the first time. It wasn’t as if I had never explored this side of sex before. Tying a woman up, or being tied up. Taking control and surrendering control. I’d played around and enjoyed such things many times before, but never with someone I cared for in the way I cared about Rochelle. With her hands behind her back, I lifted her roughly and pushed her forward on the couch. Without her arms to support her, her face was pressed down into the leather and I was able to stand back and admire her body. Having removed my shirt while I was in the other room, the beauty of her curves and the softness of her skin was there for my viewing pleasure. I began to run my hands over her round bottom and she begged me to punish her. If she wanted me to be in control, then she was going to have to let me take it my way. There was no halfway about this.
“You’re not in charge here. You wanted me to take control, and that’s exactly what I’ll do,” I scolded her before giving her exactly what she’d asked for.
The sting on my palm only added to my arousal, and I wanted nothing more than to give in and just take her right there, but I held back. Instead, I explored the familiar shape of her body with my hands between spankings getting more and more excited with each passing minute, but never showing any break in my control.
Would it always be this way? No. If she truly enjoyed this, I knew that I’d indulge again, but the sensuality of our connection required more than just physical pleasure. For me, that was what this was. I loved her. That never changed, but controlling and punishing her, despite how I really felt, that was pure physical ecstasy. It made me feel powerful, and that added to the excitement in a way I’d never known, even in my wildest past encounters.
When the time came that I couldn’t resist any longer, I removed the pants she’d given me and slid her last articles of clothing down her legs, passing over the red welts that marked her creamy flesh. What was coming wasn’t the last thing I would do to exert my control, but it felt like the pinnacle. I was about to take her in a
way I hadn’t yet, and as I did, I heard a whisper from her lips. I don’t think she even knew she’d said it, but the distinct, “Yessssssssss,” set me into overdrive and my body took control. No longer was I worried about showing self-control. No. The limits were gone and I gave into the carnal nature of what we were doing. I pulled her back by her hair, reached around and took her by the throat, squeezing hard enough that I felt her squirm to try and get her breath back. I held on, demonstrating my power until I could feel her body going weak. Never relenting, I continued to take her as she went limp before releasing her and hearing another hiss that I could only assume was pleasure. This was true control. She was showing an incredible trust in me, and I understood what she’d meant before.
I’d just held her very life in my hand, only seconds away from unconsciousness. She never once resisted me. I could have taken it too far, all while using her body, and she remained in complete surrender. The feeling this was bringing about in my body was almost foreign. There was something added to the physical pleasure and build up that I could feel. It was more intense, and I caught myself breathing far heavier than the exertion from our lovemaking required. My body was spasming and I couldn’t resist increasing the force and speed of my actions as my release came in a more explosive fashion than I knew possible.
Rochelle appeared to experience her climax at nearly the same time, and I felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my chest as I collapsed atop her. For the briefest of moments, I was actually concerned that I might be having a heart attack, but the feeling passed, and I was left in a state of bliss as both our bodies pulsed with heavy breathing in the aftermath of what had just taken place. I was about to say something shallow like, “Wow!” when Rochelle broke the near silence with words that caught me more off guard than the sight of her on her knees moments earlier.
“I love you.”
A tear formed in my eye at the words, and I reached back around, to her cheek this time, and turned her head to kiss her. I’d made the right choice, and in that split second - I made another.
Inside the Storm Page 13