Submit to Me

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Submit to Me Page 11

by Sappharia Mayer


  "She's a highly organized workaholic who's set processes and teams in place to help her build whatever she dreams up. As to why? She's chasing a ghost."

  "Her dad." Kade leaned forward and looked over at Ian.

  "Yes. He was a ruthless son of a bitch," he replied, throwing back the last of the bourbon. "He always wanted her to follow in his real estate footsteps. Thought she was a failure because she owned a boutique PR firm. He didn't know she was an author, Dominatrix, or club owner."

  Kade nodded.

  "I can't get over the fact she didn't tell me what was going on," he said, opening the file on his desk.

  "Would you have believed her?"

  "I'm the one that intervened when Edmund proposed," he said gravely. "Something in my gut didn't feel right after that, but I had no evidence it involved him in anything but unwanted attention. I even brought that up to her on several occasions."

  "Being threatened is scary. She's not the first client to be stupid in the face of danger," Ian acknowledged.

  "But I'm not just anyone. I was her former submissive."

  "Note the former. Now you are her director of security and close friend. You're at a distance. Not a far one but a distance nonetheless. I don't think she even trusted herself with the situation."

  Kade stared out into the room. A jumble of thoughts crowded his mind.

  "Do you think you can take over the mentor program with Cassandra?" Kade finally asked.

  "Is it based on the club's protocols and rules?"

  "It is. Alexandra took her on right before the world blew up. I thought I could take her on, but it's one too many things for me. It's straightforward: set up a weekly check-in, go over the workbook assignments, and test her various skills," Kade said, picking up a folder labeled with Cassandra's name from his side table and walking it over to Ian.

  The other man flipped through the folder.

  "How often is she on site?" Ian asked, not lifting his eyes from the papers.

  "That's another matter. I pulled the access reports for the last three months, and Cassandra's been here an average of five days a week. Her keycard shows most of her visits are in the library, but command has noted she's been in other areas of the building when her last access was there."

  "And this makes you suspicious?" Ian queried.

  "It's more than that. She showed up at the PR firm the other morning looking for Samantha or Melodie-or at least that's what she said. When I saw her there, she acted odd."

  Ian's head snapped up from the pages he was flipping through. "Define odd."

  "Nervous. Cagey. She said she wanted to discuss Samantha's point of view for one of her assignments, but those discussions are off-limits at the firm. The clientele might be from all walks of life and alternative lifestyles, but they aren’t the only type they cater to."

  Ian looked at him thoughtfully.

  "Nervous, like I'm staring down a six foot four well-built man with long hair and tribal tattoos who runs security or nervous like Shit, I've been caught, now what do I do?"

  Kade huffed and folded his arms over his broad chest. "I'm not intimidating."

  Ian let out a snort at the obvious contradiction.

  "It was more the Shit, someone caught me," Kade said, glaring at Ian. "She kept putting her hand behind her back, like she was concealing something, but there didn't seem to be anything in her hand."

  At Kade's words, Ian scowled. "Have the detective run a deep background on her. I'll see what I can find out when we have our mentor meeting."

  "I'll add her to the command's watch list."

  Kade grabbed a pen and wrote out the reminder. "Sounds good."

  "Okay. Now that this desk is wrangled, I need to get out and do security rounds."

  Ian chuckled as he followed him out the door.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Can I get you anything?" the bartender asked as Jessica walked toward the bar stool at the far corner of the bar. She tucked her long skirt under her knees and hooked her heels against the brace of the stool.

  "Sparkling water with a lime, please," she said, laying the club protocol book and a notebook on the bar.

  "You are starting with the hard stuff, I see," the bartender said with a smile.

  "Starting out easy is for wimps," she quipped, a smile crossing her own lips in return.

  He sat the drink down on a napkin in front of her.

  "You’re actually reading that book?" He grimaced, pointing to the large three-ring binder.

  “Yes.”

  "Why? I can boil it down to the following. Use common sense, don't be stupid, and ask first."

  "Is that so?" she asked him, puzzled. While he was right that the basics could easily be boiled down into such simple terms, it was the power dynamics and intricacies that fascinated her. The complexly simple interactions between two people in such relationships.

  "How long have you worked here…" Jessica let the pause hang in the air.

  "Jack. My name is Jack and about three months."

  "What do you think of the club owner, Jack?"

  "I don't rightly know, as I haven't met her yet. I hear she's out of town, but the management around here is pretty hush about the whole situation," he said as he wiped down the bar.

  Jessica took the information and scribbled it her notebook.

  "I've heard from some of the members she's tough as nails," she pushed, hoping for some perspective from the staff. Most of them had been very closed off to her questions the minute she probed any deeper than Hey, this is a great place.

  "That's what the bar manager says. This place has more cleaning lists and checklists than any other place I've worked. But I can't complain none. The pay's better, the scenery can't be beat—or is it that the scenery's taking a beating?" He smirked and nodded to the couple over in the corner.

  A woman was bent over an older man's lap, her ass on display and bright red with several handprints. Jessica could hear her soft sobs emanating from the corner, but the woman didn't seem in any distress she didn't enjoy.

  "He loves punishing her in public. They come in every few days. Always sitting at the same table. He orders a glass of ice cubes along with a gin and tonic. Then he'll bend her over his lap, flip up her skirt and spank her. When he's done, he'll sooth all those red areas with ice cubes until she's wiggling and squealing under his touch."

  Jessica listened to Jack while she took in the scene in the corner. At two in the afternoon, she was sure the place would be dead, but in several corners throughout the club, she'd spied people in intimate moments. Some were like watching her fantasies play out in front of her while others confused her. Regardless, all of them aroused her.

  Every turn reminded her of her time in the Sapphire Room. The sight of Kade kneeling in front of her, yet there was a fire in his eyes. She adored the sight. The thoughts send a hot spark of arousal and need through her. Jessica shifted on the barstool and returned her focus to the papers in front of her.

  "You know, if you're interested in learning the ropes around here, I'd be glad to show you around when I get off shift," Jack said, giving her a wink and a grin.

  "That won't be necessary, Jack," Kade said as he walked up to the end of the bar.

  Her heart nearly stopped at the sound of his voice. For two days, she'd busied herself with work and learning everything she could about the club. Every scene reminded her of watching him fall to his knees at her command. She craved to touch him and take him to the edge, waiting on her order.

  The two men had an unspoken conversation, and she knew she was the subject. Kade's protectiveness was obvious, but the hint of possessiveness had her curious.

  "Maybe next time then." He shot Jessica a smile and nodded to Kade before walking to the other end of the bar.

  She flashed Kade a knowing smile as her gaze dropped to his crotch.

  "How's life, Mr. Kinkaid?" she said, reaching for her water to quench her suddenly parched throat.

  "Strained. And yours, Det
ective?" he whispered on the edge of a growl.

  Jessica turned to face him, her hands inches from his crotch.

  She lifted her head. His direct gaze unsettled her, challenging her in a dare to make the next move. Without dropping her gaze, her fingers stroked against the fabric of his slacks. His cock came to life under her touch. She well knew the effect she was having on him, but it was the effect he was having on her that caught her by surprise.

  "What if I told you to kneel right here? Would you drop to your knees?"

  Her fingers continued to tease along the edge of the fabric, but her gaze never left his.

  "Fortune often favors the bold, Detective," he said with a slight smirk.

  "Does it now, Mr. Kinkaid?" she asked, letting her fingers cup under his balls and squeeze.

  "Indeed."

  His voice was strained. She watched him fight the shiver of pleasure and struggle for internal control.

  "There's always a possibility I would follow the command," he said with a hissed exhale. "Which also means there's a possibility I wouldn't."

  "So how do I know which one you'll choose?" she asked, her fingers releasing his balls and working their way back up his cock as it strained against the fabric.

  "You take a chance, Detective."

  He braced a hand on the bar and leaned in toward her, bringing his lips within a whisper of hers, hovering just out of reach. Their breaths mingled in an intimate confession neither voiced.

  "Put your hands behind your back, Mr. Kinkaid." She forced the whispered words between her lips.

  Kade responded. His hand lifted from the bar and linked with the other behind his back, but the distance between them did not change.

  "I confess your advantage in these situations. I am behind in knowing all the intimate rules to these public games."

  "Then be brave enough to dance, Detective."

  Jessica's breath hitched at the words. Between them her hand paused and drew a moan from Kade.

  "I need to learn the ins and outs of the dynamic interactions. How do I learn everything to get on top? Who will teach me what I need to know?"

  She watched Kade's eyes fall closed, but the rest of his body was a rigid, unmovable object. A storm of emotions played across his face. When his eyes snapped open, he watched her with an intensity she'd never experienced.

  "Me."

  The word was an answer. A statement. A challenge.

  "And what do I get out of it, Mr. Kinkaid?"

  White hot fear mixed with her arousal, pushing her to the edge of her own control. The air was heavy. Every inch of her lit up with a burning need to possess him.

  "The potential for trust, loyalty, and a deep, unique intimate bond. The Dominant isn't the only one who can guide and teach in a relationship. It's like a dance teacher who teaches the lead the steps. Just because they look like they are following doesn't make it less. When the lead finally has the steps down, the dance changes again."

  A delicious shudder shot through her at the thought. Kade was all hot, hard, exquisite specimen of a man, and here he was throwing down the gauntlet, daring her to command him for their mutual pleasure.

  "It's a power exchange-and I bring my own power. Do you?"

  The challenge of his words pushed past her hesitation. Having her power challenged was one of her greatest weaknesses. Throughout her life everyone had underestimated her.

  She straightened her shoulders, and a smile curled across his lips.

  "Mr. Kinkaid, please gather my things. Let's dance," she commanded, hoping he would follow. Her heated gaze matched his, and neither moved for a long moment.

  Finally, Kade stepped back and gave her room. Jessica breathed a controlled sigh of relief and slid off the bar stool, making her aware of their significant difference in height and thankful she'd worn heels. Her skirt fanned out as she spun on her toes. Without looking back, she stepped past him and continued down toward the bar's entrance. Behind her there was a quick shuffle of papers. Before she reached the door, Kade's footfalls matched her own.

  Jessica pushed on the door to the Sapphire Room. Its familiarity gave her confidence, but the nerves in her stomach ran rampant. Behind her, she heard Kade set down her notes and then step close enough that she felt his breath on her neck.

  "Let me introduce you to the studio before we begin our dance," he said.

  Kade led her to the control panel, explaining each of the buttons for lighting, audio, and security. Pushing open the cabinet doors along the wall closest to the door, he showed her the available toys and then grabbed his keys and unlocked a lower drawer.

  "A supply of my own things is in here," he said, pointing out an array of ropes, gags, and a crop.

  "Quite forward, Mr. Kinkaid."

  He shook his head in denial. "They are always in here. It is my private locker."

  Realization dawned through her. He'd chosen this room on purpose.

  "Why this room?" she asked with trepidation.

  "It is one of two rooms I've never played in as a submissive. It is the only room in the club where I'd never played until the other night."

  His words were full of unspoken meaning, and she worked to piece it all together.

  "According to your skills assessment, you know the basics of rope groundwork, good knife control, wax play, takedown play, and obviously chastity. You lack skills in most impact skills, but passed all safety assessments on bondage."

  Jessica blinked at his technical assessment. The change from the challenge in his eyes at the bar made her second-guess their interaction.

  "Based on your skill, I am comfortable with rope, a basic level of chastity, as you've already shown a preference, and any other form of bondage you would prefer. Your strong personality is more than up to the task of mental control," he said with a smirk. "Safe sex supplies are in the middle drawer of the counters."

  Her thoughts raced. What was she thinking? She might issue the commands, but he was in control. Could she learn this intricately balanced dance or were the men in her world right? Jessica grit her teeth against the invasion of a lifetime of being told she was less than or not up to the task.

  "It's a lot to take in," she said, the nerves obvious in her own voice.

  "I believe in you," Kade breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

  She watched him step back and assume an at-rest posture, his hands behind his back, feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped at his lower back, but his eyes remained trained on her. Everything in her world had led her to this moment when she either stepped up to what was offered or shut up and realized many of the things she'd heard throughout her life were true. It was one thing to initiate in bed. It was quite another to take control and power in a relationship and wield it for the benefit of both.

  The big questions could wait for now. Watching Kade waiting on her next word was intoxicating. Pure need and desire danced in his eyes, echoing her own, even if his stance was in the form of patiently waiting for her next move.

  Chapter Seventeen

  His heart hammered in his chest. Her fear was almost palpable, but it was the determined look on her face that gave him hope. It took a certain confidence to play with a dynamically charged relationship. Many thought they could handle it, but so often it fell apart when the balance of power shifted in an uneven fashion, and still other relationships never developed outside of play. Their physical attraction was obvious. Her next steps determined how they proceeded.

  Jessica reached into his drawer and pulled out several skeins of rope. Then she opened the center drawer and grabbed condoms. His cock jumped at the possibilities.

  "There's a lounge in the far corner. Please bring it to the center of the room, Mr. Kinkaid."

  She'd issued the order without looking up. He saw her bite her lip in trepidation, but it was her fortitude to move forward which drew his admiration.

  Kade walked over and pushed the curved chair into the center of room. Its design allowed for it to support a person in m
any positions. Underneath the frame there were several places to tie someone down or attach a clip with cuffs. The height of the chair back swept easily down the face into a low curve which cradled the body. Once the chair was situated, he fell back into a parade rest stance and waited.

  "Rope. Its application is an art form," she said, running the rope through her hands as she unwound it from the sailor's coil. "There's something about it. Knowing it winds its way around the most private parts of a person. Or using it to bind limbs to immobilize. Once in place it is beautiful and deadly. Like most things in life, people often underestimate it based on size and familiarity."

  Her words punctuated each step. Images bloomed across Kade's mind. Anticipation pulsed through him with each heartbeat.

  "For nearly three days, you've waited," she said, approaching him and laying the rope and condoms on the chair. "You filled those days with work and people but, if I were to ask, did your thoughts stray far from me?"

  His cock jumped at her words. She was right: the last three days without release had been filled with near constant thoughts of the detective and their last encounter. He kept hoping to run into her or find her walking into his office with a piece of information or even a command. The near constant arousal set him on edge with need, even with a large concentration of self-discipline.

  "No, Ma'am."

  "While I may be new to this version of a dynamic, such a thing would be desirable for someone in my position-isn't that correct?"

  "If it pleases you."

  Her fingers worked the buttons. There was no rush in her movement as she worked her way down the front of his shirt. His nipples hardened at her nearness. Jessica pushed the shirt off his chest, letting her fingers graze the edge of his taut nipples.

  He moaned in response. She gave him a playful smirk and licked her lips before reaching for the button at the top of his fly. Kade involuntarily inhaled in anticipation. Under her insistent fingers, the button popped free, and she tugged at the zipper. Once it reached the bottom of its short path, she pressed the fabric back, and his hardness sprang free from the confines of his pants.

 

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