Copyright © 2016 D. F. Krieger
All rights reserved.
ISBN-10: 1530583020
ISBN-13: 978-1530583027
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, place, or events portrayed in this work are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
DEDICATION
For Max, who not only continues to be a great editor, but the best friend a girl could ever ask for. For my husband, David, who doesn’t look at me funny when I write girls kissing. For everyone who requested the ability to buy this book in print.
I appreciate all of you.
.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Editor: Max Ellendale
Cover Artist: Love, Lust, and Lipstick Stains
CHapter One
The fetid smell of beer filled my nostrils and I wondered for a moment—just a moment—what it would be like to drink until stupor overcame me. To drink until the sorrows, regrets, and pains in my life were dulled memories that drifted on the edge of my awareness. A sigh escaped me and I sipped my soda with mixed emotions. Despite my desire, I recognized the urge for what it was—escapism. At least, that’s what my ex-therapist called it.
“Rough day, Paige?” a lilting voice asked.
I tried to muster a smile so my sister wouldn’t realize just how much I fought my demons. “When is it not these days?” I turned to the small woman who slid on the barstool next to me. “You ever want to just cash in on life and let someone else deal with it all? With everything? Money, bills, groceries, decisions?”
Brandi fingered the collar around her throat and a soft smile flit across her lips. “I like that Master still allows me many freedoms, but I know there are some subs who prefer to let their entire lives be decided. Service subs.”
“You know I am too skeptical to try that BDSM stuff, sis. I really don’t think being beat while a guy gets off is that appealing.” Regret sickened my stomach the instant the words left my mouth. “Brandi, I’m—”
The smile on my sister’s face disappeared, only to be replaced by the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Is that what you think? That Kyle abuses me to get off? That my Master...my husband and I are in a sick, twisted dynamic that hurts me?”
“No, I...” I stopped and rubbed my temples as I tried to think. “I shouldn’t have attacked your lifestyle. I don’t understand it, which is exactly why I have no right to make judgy comments. I’m sorry.”
Brandi regarded me for a moment before nodding. “What happened?” The words came out barely audible. “You called asking me to meet you at a bar in the middle of a work day. Tell me what’s wrong.”
It was my turn to fight back tears as I returned my gaze to the soda in front of me. To help stave them off, as well as the lump in my throat, I clenched my fingers around the cold surface of the glass. The condensation on the drink soaked into my palms and sent a wave of comfort through me.
“My boss called a meeting this morning. Sales this quarter were lower than last. In an effort to save the magazine, he is letting go of almost half the staff. Mostly, the people who run the magazine. Executive editors, the head of the layout department, marketing director... Me.” The lump in my throat came back full force, and I swallowed a few times before I continued. “I just lost my dog two weeks ago to renal failure, booted my fiancé’s ass to the curb for cheating on me a month ago, and now this. What am I going to do?”
Brandi laid a gentle hand on my arm. “How much time do you have before your last day?”
“Friday is it. It’s the last day of the month. Bet the bastard waited until the last of the month on purpose so he could guarantee all deadlines were met for the issue we were working on. I...” A sob tried to slip out and I bit my lip to keep it caged. When my control over my emotions returned, I whispered, “Six years. Six years gone.”
“We’ll find you another job, Paige. It’s going to be okay.” Brandi pat my back, but the thumps only served to emphasize the sensation of feeling hollow inside instead of reassured. “You have tons of experience. Surely it won’t be too hard to find another job.”
The strangled laugh that came from me sounded bitter, even to my own ears. “I spent most of today calling every magazine, newspaper, and news casting station within a fifty mile radius. No one is hiring an editor in chief. These positions are promoted internally, as they should be.”
“So start in a lower position and work your way up,” Brandi suggested. “You’re smart, and a hard worker. You can do it.”
“I offered to take starter positions. Every place told me I’m overqualified, then wished me luck. I don’t know what to do.”
My sister tapped her fingers on the surface of the bar and her brow furrowed. I knew the look well. Despite her submissive personality, she had a stubborn streak a mile wide. The expression on her face was a clear indication she was preparing to take matters into her own hands.
“Come on,” she commanded as she slid off the barstool.
I slapped some cash on the bar that easily covered the cost of my soda, then followed her out the door. A small voice in my head worried whether I should have asked for the change. Who knew when I would receive another paycheck after Friday. I quelled the voice and refused to turn around. “Where are we going?” I asked in confusion. I’d expected her to give me a pep talk on not giving up. Her taking me somewhere never crossed my mind when I called her. Well, maybe home, once I finished getting good and drunk. That crossed my mind.
An idea of her destination popped in my head and I prayed she wasn’t planning on dragging me to my workplace so she could browbeat my boss into giving my job back. I certainly wouldn’t put it past her. Kyle often called her his hellcat in a collar, and I agreed completely.
“Where is your car?” she asked instead of answering me.
“I took a cab.” When she shot me a sharp look I shrugged. “What?”
“You weren’t thinking about drinking, were you?” You know alcohol doesn’t solve problems—it just creates more.” She pulled her car keys out and started across the parking lot even as she lectured me. “Alcohol nearly destroyed your life once. Losing your job sucks, I get that...but it’s not worth starting back up on a vicious cycle that will make you lose everything.”
“I know, Brandi.” I held back an exasperated sigh—or maybe it was defeated—so I wouldn’t come off as dismissive. She only said these harsh truths because she cared. “That’s why I ordered a soda and called you instead.”
She offered me a quick nod and the knot in my stomach eased a tiny bit. “Good. Get in.”
I eyed her little red car with trepidation. Sitting in a passenger seat never appealed to me, even on a great day. The taxi ride here still haunted me. A part of me panicked every time someone else sat behind the wheel.
Brandi unlocked her car, then stopped. “Hey,” she said, her voice soft. “Paige, it’s me. I’ll be super careful. I always am.”
“I don’t even know where you are taking me,” I protested, clenching my fists as I fought back the anxiety attack that threatened to pierce through my chest.
“To see Kyle. He may know someone who has a job opening. People at the club talk to him all the time about everything.” She slid into the car without another word. It was her way of forcing me to make a decision.
“Passive aggressive sisters are the worst,” I snarled as I jerked the door open.<
br />
“Only when they don’t have your best interests at heart, which I do. So hush up and pick some music.” She handed me a binder of CDs then started the car. We both knew it was a ploy to distract me so I didn’t backseat drive.
No incident or reasoning backed my anxiety when it came to vehicles. I’d never experience a wreck, nor been harmed in a car. As long as I drove I was fine. If I didn’t drive, I clenched my jaw at every turn of the steering wheel, application of the break, and lane change.
Even as I gripped the binder of CDs, I saw my sister glance at me and chew her bottom lip. A tell of hers I knew too well. She did that when something occupied her mind that she wanted to avoid talking about.
“What?” I asked while flexing my foot to apply an imaginary brake as we hurtled through traffic.
“Stop it, Paige. I’m only going 35.” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit! Did you and Kyle fight or something? Need me to whip his ass?” Imagining the burly man wearing a maid uniform and begging for mercy put a smile on my face and helped distract me from the drive.
“No, it’s nothing like that,” Brandi protested. “Your fear of being in the passenger seat—I finally figured it out.”
That caught my attention. I snapped out of the scenario playing in my head and arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Have some kind of past life horror story about how I died in a car wreck?” I didn’t mean to be snide, and even I flinched at the acidic bite that laced through my tone.
She shot me a glare, and though it was brief, it still had me dropping my gaze onto my lap. “Very funny, smart ass. Control. You are a control freak.”
My stomach lurched and I clenched my jaw. “I’m not a control freak,” I bit out between grit teeth. “I just find it easier to do things myself, and prefer them done ways that I know work.”
“Whatever.” She slammed a hand on the horn, blaring it at a truck for refusing to move at the stoplight in front of us. “Go! It’s green, damn it. Look, I’m just saying that maybe you could find more happiness if you’d learn to go with the flow more often.”
“Go with the flow?” I gave a derisive snort. “How much more do you want me to go with the flow? What exactly did I do or what decisions did I make that made me not a team player? Was I supposed to look at Teresa and say, ‘Gee, I didn’t know you’d decided our relationship needed a man in it. I always thought you liked only women. Let’s go with this, honey. Hell, maybe we should invite him to marry us too.’? Or am I supposed to see being fired as a well-earned extended vacation? Fuck bills, let’s party!”
As I dug my nails into my thighs to bring my rant under control, Brandi pulled into the club’s parking lot and parked. “You done?” she asked in a bored tone.
“Yes... No... I don’t know!” I let out a frustrated yell and knew, in that moment, if I were still at the bar I would be throwing back a stiff shot of something stupid right now. Fantasies of walking into the club and ordering something there played out in my head and the only thing that stopped me was the knowledge my sister would embarrass me by throwing a public fit if I did.
“I love you,” Brandi said, as if sensing my thoughts. “Now put your big girl panties on, get out of the car, and let’s go ask Kyle if anyone he knows is hiring.”
Before I could respond, she exited the car and made her way to the employee’s entrance. I slid out, dragging my feet as much as possible. The club’s exterior didn’t look exactly extravagant, and the sign above the door— The Black Cuff— didn’t reveal much about the theme of the establishment. I knew, though, what the club really was.
I entered the employee door too. It would still be a few hours before they opened the front door to clients, and even then you had to be sponsored or invited to get in. The Black Cuff was one of the few true BDSM clubs in our region, and they didn’t take pretenders or people who wanted an excuse to be exhibitionists.
Brandi stood at the bar, talking to Kyle. His broad shoulders and tall height made him dwarf my sister, but I’d never seen her happier. As long as he made her happy, I was happy. We’d been through enough in our lives already.
“My, aren’t you a fiery beauty?” The soft, purring voice behind me caused me to spin around in surprise. My gaze traveled over the woman before me, taking in her casual blue jeans and a red shirt. What appeared to be rubies hung from her ears and draped around her throat. Her heart-shaped face, accented by dark, curling hair, held an amused smile. “Is it true what they say about redheads?” she asked.
“Depends on what you’ve heard,” I responded, lifting an eyebrow.
Her smile turned seductive as she crossed her arms over ample breasts. “Many things. All of which I’d love to test. Are you game, or is your Master exclusive and simply doesn’t collar you?”
“M-master?” I sputtered. “I belong to no one. Especially not a man .” Just the thought turned my stomach. I didn’t hate men, but the concept of being attracted to or controlled by one held absolutely no appeal for me.
“So you are interested in women, though? Fascinating... Do you have a sub, yet? I don’t mind playing switch for the right woman.” Her eyes, a beautiful sapphire, glinted with obvious excitement.
Heat burned my face as I desperately tried to find the right response. The woman standing before me was easily the most gorgeous being I’d ever seen. To hear she was a lesbian, or at least bi, seemed like something from a dream. But what she wanted, I couldn’t give her. “I’m... I don’t...”
“I’m sorry, Mistress Delilah. This is my sister, Paige. She doesn’t participate in the lifestyle,” Brandi said, appearing beside me with perfect timing.
Mistress Delilah’s expression fell and disappointment emanated from her. “What a shame,” she said with a soft sigh. “I would have liked to play with you.”
Oh, we can play. Just not BDSM. I fought back the words and offered her a smile. “Perhaps a coffee sometime,” I replied, hoping she’d understand I was interested in her at least.
Her gaze ran down the length of my body before she brought it back to my face. “I would. You have no idea how much I’d love to. But vanilla would never satisfy me, and a relationship without satisfaction is a relationship in name only. If I can’t have you completely, then I’ll just have to settle for watching from a distance.”
Her words sent shivers coursing through my body and I ran my tongue over my lips nervously, surprised by the lust building within me. She watched me for a barely a moment before issuing a curt nod at Brandi, then turned her back to us and strode away. It pained me to watch her disappear around a corner and out of sight, but I certainly enjoyed the view of her ass and hips while I had them.
“Wow,” I whispered as I controlled the urge to chase after her like a smitten puppy.
“I know. I’m sorry. Mistress Delilah can be very...intense,” Brandi said, obviously misunderstanding me. “She’s a great Mistress, don’t get me wrong. No sub has ever complained about her, or been abused at her hands. But I think she’s looking for a fully committed sub, instead of just play now. Probably a service sub.”
I sucked in a breath and held it, luxuriating in the lingering perfume left in the wake of her departure. She claims to not like vanilla, but she certainly wears it. That’s a scent that has never smelled sexier. “Too bad she’s not more my speed,” I commented. “I bet a date with her would leave a lasting impression in a great way.”
“You’d be over Teresa by the end of the night.” My sister snickered. “Come on, Kyle wanted to talk to you.”
We walked over to the burly man who busied himself stocking clean glasses at the bar. “I hear you were canned today,” he said without looking up. “Damn shame. They don’t know what they’re losing.”
“Thanks.” I fidgeted for a moment, uncertain how to proceed. “Brandi said if I asked, you might be able to point me in the direction of anyone hiring.”
He paused, raised his gaze to look at me, then pulled a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge
behind him. In a fluid motion, he skidded it across the bar to me, then leaned against the counter. “What kind of job you looking for?”
“Anything at this point. I’m pretty well desperate.” I unscrewed the cap and took a healthy swig, wishing once more for alcohol.
“I don’t know of anyone hiring right now. I could ask around, but most people won’t be here until this weekend. We’re pretty quiet during the week unless someone is sponsoring a themed event.” Kyle rubbed at his face for a moment. “I can let you work for me, tending bar.”
Brandi inhaled sharply. “Master, I—”
He shot her a smile that looked suspiciously like he was laughing on the inside. “I’m well aware of her history, little hell cat. But your sister is professional enough not to drink on the job, and it’s better than nothing.”
I mulled it over as I picked at the label on my water. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I’d be able to make the rent on my apartment with bartending.”
“We have a guest house,” he reminded me. “You can crash there, rent free with basic utilities. Any net or cable is your responsibility, though. You can use this as a hub to keep an ear to the ground for a job, or until you find one through different means. It’s up to you. No pressure.”
The enormity of what he was doing caused tears to sting my eyes. “I... I don’t know what to say. You’re being so generous.”
“You’re my sister-in-law. A simple thank you will do.” He grinned at me, then nodded at Brandi. “Besides, I’d rather not deal with the tantrum your sister would have if I didn’t help you.”
“I don’t have tantrums,” she protested with an indignant sniff. “I have emotional episodes.”
“Does Delilah work here too?” I let my gaze wander to where I’d seen her last as I asked the question.
“Mistress Delilah? No, but she’s the director for the event this weekend.” Kyle pointed at the stage on the opposite side of the room. “We’re having an Abduction Auction. We have them once a month.”
The Abduction Agreement (Mistress May I Book 1) Page 1