The Billionaire's Sub

by M. S. Parker

  “Since I didn’t get any calls from the Breashears, I assumed that meant nothing blew up, and we didn’t give anyone food poisoning.” She gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How’d you do?”

  I ran my hand through my hair. “Um, not bad I guess.”

  “Come on.” Juliette gestured toward the door. “You can tell me all about it on the way home.”

  We caught a cab easier than I expected, and I spent the short ride back to the apartment giving Juliette a run-down of the party. She asked a couple questions, but already seemed to know the answers. I wanted to believe it was because she had enough faith in me that she knew I’d done a good job.

  Except that wasn’t the sort of vibe I was getting from my sister. She almost seemed...distracted.

  As we walked to the elevator, I frowned. Juliette was never distracted. By anything. She was a multi-tasker, but she was always focused on whatever she was working on. She had almost obsessive focus. I knew that and understood it, because I was the same way when it came to work.

  So I wasn’t sure what was going on with her.

  Before I could ask, however, Juliette changed the subject.

  “What’s that you’ve been fiddling with ever since we got in the cab?” she asked as she flipped on the main light.

  I didn’t understand her question at first, but then she motioned to my hand and I saw that I was still holding Cross’ business card.

  “Oh, this.” I held it out to her. “He was at the party and offered me a job.”

  Juliette took the card and I watched her face change as she read it.

  “Cross Phillips.” The name came out flat.

  “I believe so,” I said, giving her a curious look. “He didn’t introduce himself.”

  “But he offered you a job.”

  “Yeah.” I almost asked her for the card back, but I wasn’t sure how she’d react. “But not a permanent one. I figured I’d talk things over with you, see if you had anyone else you wanted to try out for the business manager position. You know, so it doesn’t look like you just gave me the job.”

  Juliette frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “I think Emmalyn may have thought she would get the job–”

  “Not that,” she cut me off. “I mean, why do you think he was offering you a temporary job?”

  “Because he said it was.” I folded my arms, eyes narrowing. “What’s going on?”

  “Cross Phillips is bad news,” she said. “That’s what’s going on.” She tossed the card into the trash. “Stay away from him.”

  I stared at her as she walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. When she went into the living room, I grabbed a bottle of water and joined her.

  “Why?” I sat down across from her. “What would be so bad about working for this guy?”

  “Let it go, Hanna.”

  I could hear the warning in her voice, but that just made me more curious. Juliette had gone to college before I’d really been old enough to date, and the few times she’d been home, she hadn’t exactly been policing my boyfriends. Pretty much the only dating advice she’d ever given me was to be smart and date only people I cared about rather than dating just to say I had a boyfriend.

  “I’m an adult, Juliette. You’ll have to do better than that.” I took a sip of my water.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I think you could just take my word for it.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. He was perfectly nice to me and you’re acting like I’m lucky he didn’t drag me off somewhere and tie me up.”

  To my surprise, she laughed. Like one of those snorting laughs because you’re caught completely off-guard. Some of the tension seemed to ease.

  “What exactly did he say to you?” She took another long swig of beer.

  Maybe it was the alcohol rather than the laughter that’d loosened her up.

  “I told you,” I said.

  She shook her head. “No, I mean exactly. What words did he use?”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “Seriously, Juliette? Are you going to do some psychoanalysis on his word choice?”

  “Humor your older sister.”

  I sighed and tipped my head back, closing my eyes. “He came up to me, told me that he knew subbing wasn’t something I did, but he hoped I’d make an exception in his case.”

  “Shit,” Juliette muttered. “He said subbing, not temp work. Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I raised my head. “I’m sure.”

  She ran her hand through her hair in a gesture eerily similar to my own. “Did he call you by your first name?”

  What the hell? “No. He called me Miss Breckenridge. But so did everyone else.”

  “And how many of them thought you were me?”

  I leaned forward, disappointment blooming. Was that it? Was Juliette telling me to stay away from Cross because she knew something that I didn’t? Did she know that he’d asked me to work for him because he thought I was her? Maybe he was after her business?

  “What’s going on between you and Cross Phillips?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “I’ve never met the man.”

  Shit.

  “He thought I was you.” I sank back.

  There it was. Cross hadn’t wanted me. He’d wanted Juliette. Even if it’d just been for work reasons, it still stung.

  “I think so,” Juliette agreed. “So, stay away from him.”

  We were quiet for a minute, but there was something still nagging at me, and I couldn’t let it go.

  “Why would this guy think you’d want to work for him? I mean, the business is going well, isn’t it? He didn’t sound like he wanted you for a single catering job...”

  “Let it go, Hanna.”

  She sounded annoyed, but it didn’t stop me from pushing.

  Like I’d said before. I understood single-minded focus.

  “What’s going on, Juliette? You’ve been planning this event for weeks, then some car trouble keeps you from coming at all. Then some hot guy gives me his business card and offers me a job and–”

  “He wasn’t offering you a job,” she cut me off. “You went to OSU, for fuck’s sake. How do you not get that subbing doesn’t mean a temporary position unless you’re talking about school? How do you not know what it means?”

  “What are you talking about?” I started to expound on my question. “What do you...oh.” It hit me suddenly and my face went red.

  “Yeah, Hanna, connect the dots.” Juliette gave me a sardonic smile. “I didn’t think even you could be that naïve.”

  Even me? I should’ve been insulted. Still, that barely registered.

  “He was...propositioning me?”

  “Well, actually, me, but yeah.” Juliette shrugged.

  “Fuck me,” I breathed.

  “Like I said, actually me, but yeah.”

  This time, her words registered.

  “Wait a minute.” My mind whirled, connecting more dots than she probably wanted me to. “Why would Cross Phillips ask you to be a...Sub?”

  I hoped I was wording things correctly. I had only the vaguest idea of whatever the hell any of that was, and all of my limited knowledge was thanks to my classmates at OSU being obsessed with the latest alpha male erotica novel.

  Juliette sighed. “You’re like a fucking dog with a bone.” She rubbed her forehead. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

  I grinned at her, enjoying her discomfort despite myself. “Nope.”

  “Dammit.” She shifted in her seat. “I really did not want to have this conversation with anyone in our family.” She gave me a wry look. “Though I suppose if it had to be someone, better you than any of the rest of them.”

  I felt my eyes widen. Where the hell was this conversation going to go?

  “I could only imagine trying to tell Mom and Dad I was into S&M. RJ would probably freak the worst.”

  My jaw dropped. What the...? I couldn’t even finish the sentence. My brain was still try
ing to wrap around my older sister using the term ‘S&M’ in a conversation.

  Juliette laughed, then drained the rest of her beer. She stood. “I’m going to need something stronger if we plan on finishing this. You want something?”

  I nodded, unable to speak. I didn’t know the details of what we were going to talk about, but I had a feeling I’d need to be a bit drunk to hear it.

  ***

  I was wrong. I needed to be more than a bit drunk.

  “Let me see if I understand this.” I pressed my fingers to my temples and tried to summarize what Juliette had spent the last quarter hour explaining. “You’re into the whole BDSM scene?” I ticked off the letters on my fingers. “Bondage, discipline / domination, submission / sadism, masochism?”

  Juliette nodded. She still looked a bit buzzed, but there was some concern in her eyes now. She was watching me cautiously, as if she was worried I’d run out screaming at some point.

  I was sure that wasn’t going to happen.

  Pretty sure anyway.

  “And you’re a Dominant, which basically means you like bossing people around?” She glared at me. “So when Cross Phillips asked if I’d consider subbing for him, he meant...sexually?”

  “More or less.” Her voice was dry.

  My stomach clenched and a shiver of something that wasn’t exactly unpleasant went through me. Then I reminded myself that Cross hadn’t wanted me. He’d wanted Juliette.

  I frowned, confused as a thought occurred to me. “If you’re a Dominant, why did Cross ask you to be a Sub? I didn’t think it worked that way.”

  “For some people it does,” she said, putting her empty bottle on the table in front of her. “But I’m not one of them. And from what I’ve heard, neither is Cross. I think he just wanted a challenge.”

  “Mm-hm.” My head felt like it was about to explode with images and thoughts and questions. Despite my shock, however, I couldn’t deny the little spark of interest inside me that said I might want to know more.

  “So, what’s it going to be, Hanna?” Juliette asked. “You going to go running back home? Back to the safety of Mom and Dad’s?”

  That wasn’t even a consideration. But there was something else.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not going back. But there is something I would like.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  I met her gaze. “I want to see your world.”

  Chapter Five

  What the hell had I gotten myself into?

  I stared at myself in the mirror as I asked the question again. When I’d told Juliette that I wanted to see her world, this wasn’t what I had in mind.

  Hadn’t it?

  A little voice in the back of my head spoke up. I’d been trying to ignore it since this morning when Juliette had woken me up to give me the answer she hadn’t given me last night. She’d told me that she’d take me somewhere that could give me a better idea of her...lifestyle.

  But first we’d have to go shopping.

  I’d been a little annoyed when it seemed like she’d just assumed I wouldn’t have anything to go out in. Then she’d showed me what she planned on wearing, and I realized that she was right.

  I had dresses, and I’d been to parties and clubs before. But everything I had was cute and flirty. Sundresses and fun mini-skirts with flattering blouses. I looked good in all of them, and I’d never felt out of place. But all of that had been back home, and none had been in a club like the one Juliette was taking me to tonight.

  So shopping we’d gone.

  I’d half-expected her to take me into some sex shop to buy weird and freaky toys, but we didn’t go into some place shady.

  Instead, Juliette had taken me into one of the most expensive boutiques I’d ever seen. Granted, I hadn’t seen many, but still, it was something. The women had apparently known her because they’d greeted her by name and then got to work on finding me a couple of outfits. Because, of course, just a nice dress wouldn’t be enough. I needed more than one dress, shoes to match each one, and accessories.

  I kept telling Juliette that I couldn’t afford one of the dresses, much less everything she’d insisted I get, but she’d waved aside my concerns, and had said she had a few years of Christmas and birthday gifts to make up for. I’d reluctantly agreed, reminding myself that I couldn’t embarrass her with how I was dressed tonight. Especially since I’d most likely embarrass her by my reactions and how little I knew.

  We’d gone out for brunch, then back to the apartment, where we’d spent hours figuring out the best of my new outfits to wear. Then it’d been time for us to get ready.

  I could hardly recognize myself now.

  The dress was a deep midnight blue that made my hair look blacker and my eyes more purple. It hugged my curves, showing off my breasts and ending just under my ass. I was probably going to spend the night hoping I didn’t flash everyone. Though considering I had a brand-new set of lace panties and a matching bra, that wouldn’t be as bad as it could’ve been.

  On my feet I wore a pair of amazing stilettos that matched my dress and gave me an extra four inches of height to put me almost at six feet. If I’d wanted to risk falling on my face, I could’ve gone for six even.

  I’d done my make-up and hair like usual, keeping it minimal. At first, I’d worried that it wouldn’t look like enough, but my reflection said otherwise. For a moment, I almost believed I was as sexy and sophisticated as I appeared. Then I remembered that I’d most likely spend the evening with my face red and my mouth hanging open.

  A low whistle came from behind me. I turned to see Juliette standing in the doorway, looking like she’d stepped out of some sort of erotic fashion magazine. She wasn’t in leather and chains, but her outfit was definitely more daring than mine. In fact, I was pretty sure she had more skin showing than covered. But she looked amazing.

  Not that it surprised me.

  Juliette had always been the gorgeous one that everyone wanted.

  And that hadn’t changed.

  Cross wanted her.

  I pushed the thought out of my mind. I wasn’t going tonight because of Cross. He didn’t want me anyway. I was going because I wanted to know about this world that was a part of my sister’s life.

  That was all.

  “Ready?” Juliette asked. Her eyes were sparkling, but there was a serious note to her voice. She understood that this wasn’t easy for me, no matter how much I wanted to do it.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice enough to speak. Not that I would’ve said much anyway. I was as ready as I’d ever be.

  I followed Juliette out of the apartment, somehow knowing that what happened next would change everything.

  I just had no idea how much.

  ***

  I wondered if anyone would notice if I pressed myself further back into the shadows. Not because I didn’t want to see what was happening on stage, because I did. Part of me was embarrassed by watching something so intimate taking place in public, but more of me was embarrassed by how turned on I was. And a side-ways glance from Juliette told me that she knew exactly how I felt.

  No matter how embarrassed I was though, I couldn’t look away from the scene playing out in front of me.

  Juliette had given me a bit of a crash course in terminology throughout the day so I knew what was happening. At least, on an intellectual level. Seeing it and understanding it were something else entirely.

  A slim young man, too fine-featured to be anything but pretty, was tied to a giant X in the middle of the stage. He was naked save for two things – the collar around his neck, and the metal ring around the base of his penis. His body was hairless, but I wasn’t close enough to tell if he was naturally that way, or if his...mistress made him shave or wax.

  His mistress was dressed in something far tamer than I would’ve expected from a dominatrix. It was a dress similar to what Juliette was wearing except scarlet instead of black. And the neckline plunged all of the way down to the woman’s bellybutton
. She was short and slender, though not quite enough to be considered petite, and had thick honey-colored hair piled on her head in mounds of elaborate curls.

  She hadn’t spoken a word since she’d come on stage. She’d been silent when she tied her – boy? Slave? – Sub to the cross. Silent when she’d squeezed his half-hard cock, stroking him until he was fully erect. Then she’d walked away. The only sounds that had come from the stage had been the click of her heels, and the harsh panting breaths of the young man.

  She’d gone to a table then, picked up two metal things that I’d been able to identify as clamps.

  And that’s when things had really gotten interesting.

  Now, the Sub was making soft sounds that could’ve been whimpers of pain, or whimpers of pleasure. He had metal clamps on his nipples, and his chest was striped with bright pink lines from where his mistress had used what I assumed was a flogger. Juliette hadn’t shown me pictures, but her description had been clear enough for me to identify it.

  The woman still hadn’t spoken, and the man hadn’t really either. He’d made plenty of noises, but nothing that could really be considered speaking, I supposed. It didn’t seem like they needed to speak though. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made me feel like they were communicating.

  That was what really got to me, I finally realized. The intimacy of what they were doing didn’t seem violated by the audience. While I had no doubt that they were enjoying people watching them, their performance was for each other.

  Another crack of leather against flesh and the young man cried out, his body shaking. His mistress was moving the flogger lower and lower, creating a pattern on his flat stomach to match the one on his chest. This last one, however, had hit the inside of his thigh. She made an identical hit to the other side, and then paused. I could feel the tension growing between the two of them, and I wondered what was coming next.

  I couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping when the woman delivered a blow to her Sub’s testicles. It hadn’t been very hard, but enough to make the man jerk against his restraints, a half-strangled sound coming from his mouth. I shifted in my seat, practically gawking as the woman continued to flick out her wrist, letting the leather make contact with every inch of the man’s penis.