by Leigh Lennon
As I wait for Cord’s text, I buzz Nina. “Get me a flight to LA. If I fly commercial, buy out all of first class. I don’t care if they have to move them—use my contact at the airlines. And call Ms. Lipton. Tell her to be ready in twenty minutes to go to the airport.” And because I’m in a fucking pissed off mood, I add one more arrangement for Nina to attend to. Eve knows I’m an asshole— and there’s no reason for her to have allusions I’m not.
Chapter Thirteen
Eve
Twenty minutes, really? I’ve barely crawled out of bed when Nina calls me with the asshole’s demands. Within minutes, Taya and Non-Nina are at my apartment. I’ve not been able to look at Taya the same way since the night I found out she was a dominatrix. This will have to wait because the demanding Chadwick wants me ready in twenty. “Get in the shower and make it quick,” Taya mandates, and I hear that little bit of a Domme coming out in her. “I’ll pack for you.” She comes with a new luggage set and several outfits I’ve never seen.
“Nina, please get her toiletries together. Her purse is by the door. Make sure her license is in there since they’re flying commercial. Though they won’t be going through regular security.” Why does this not surprise me? I think to myself as they are outside my bathroom. I soap up my loofah and start to wash all my private areas as Taya’s head pops into the shower. “Fuck, I wish I had your tits.” I find modesty is out of the window with this crew, and as she’s watching me intently, she deems my soap is washed off most of my body and turns off the shower, throwing me a towel.
Tossing me a pair of skinny jeans and a light gray sweater that attaches to my body like a second skin, she has my pair of booties and some earrings ready for me. “Fuck, you’re hot. If you ever submit to Mr. Westbrook, we should hook up. I swing your way and would love to bury my face in those tits.” My mouth gapes open. Taya is all business, all the time, and this side of her surprises me. “And Todd, he loves watching me with a girl. I think Chadwick would find this acceptable, too!” She turns to grab a jacket for me and is back to all business. My head is spinning, wondering what sort of craziness I will find myself in next. I’m like Alice in the looking glass. What sort of ultra-new age, free-spirited craziness is next for me?
We are escorted to the terminal through a part of the airport I’ve never frequented. He tells me his jet is in Los Angeles and another jet couldn’t be secured. The problems that Chadwick has are certainly different than my own.
But at the gate, we make it in time for boarding. When they announce first class, Chadwick hands me my ticket. I stand with him to follow when his eyes narrow on me. “Ms. Lipton, where are you going?”
“With you, I assume we’re sitting together.” A haughty laugh has me inspecting my ticket. “Sorry, Kitten, they were sold out.” He leaves me in his dust, entering the jetway for the plane. Looking at my boarding pass, I’m in zone three. I line up with the three hundred other passengers and am one of the last to board the plane.
Sitting in first class is Chadwick with champagne. But looking around, it’s him and only him. “Sold out?” I ask, walking by him, wanting to bitch slap the son of a bitch.
“I forgot to mention, Kitten, it was sold out by me. But it’s not like you have ever flown first class. You can’t miss something you’ve never had.” His hands dismiss me, but we’re not alone. A flight attendant is behind us. Her gasp says it all. He shocks the normal population, but after two weeks with this prick, nothing surprises me anymore. I find my way back to my seat, and the asshole has me sitting in the middle row between two larger men. I hide my head in my lightweight jacket as tears stream down my face. After all, I’m Alice in the fucking looking glass, and I will escape this controlling dickhead. I always do.
Just before landing, he sends the same flight attendant to come get me. “Sit with me, Kitten,” he demands. “I don’t want to have to wait for you in the airport once we deplane.”
Before a smart-ass comment can leave my mouth, he’s continuing. “Apparently, there was a raid at my Los Angeles club this morning. I have no idea what to expect when I get there, so my club manager’s submissive will meet us at the airport and take you to my place downtown.”
My mind is catching up with his words. “What, what do you mean, a raid?”
“It happens every so often. I mean, we’re a legitimate club, but every once in a while, some Bible thumper wants to take us down. I run it through a variety of business holdings, but we’re legal. I have to jump through hoops, which you can imagine I hate. I’ll have to be on-site for this shit. It happens the most in Los Angeles. Cord is out of his mind.”
“Cord?” I ask.
“One of my best friends growing up. Actually, all my managers at my clubs are my best friends.”
He’s displaying a bit of his humanity, and like the affection he’d shown for his grandma, I see the same slice of compassion when it comes to the people he cares about. Who would have known?
“Jared, you know. Cord is in LA, Maddox is in Seattle, and then the twins, Anton and Gio, one is in London and the other is in New York. Then there’s Greer, my lead lawyer.”
I raise one eyebrow his way. “You’re surprised I have friends?” he asks.
How do I delicately answer this question without getting my ass reddened? “You have a certain way about you, and I could see how it would push people away. Well, you know how you are.” I pause, and his stare reminds me what I’ve forgotten. “I mean, you know how you are, Sir.” My pitch has to deliver the borderline sarcasm in my tone.
He stretches his neck, and I wait for him to respond, but all I’m greeted with is a sincere smile at the mention of his friends. “Growing up, my parents had a ton of people who watched me. My parents never were there. So the servants with kids became my second family. Mom and Dad would return for a couple of weeks here and there and ground me from them, but when they left, we’d go right back where we left off. The only break I had from the loneliness my parents imparted on me, besides my friends, had been my grams.”
I’m getting a better understanding of this man, this Dom with control issues, and some of my questions are now answered. “So your friends, Cord, Maddox, Jared, Gio, Anton, and Greer, they were all the servants’ kids?”
Knitting his eyebrows together, he cocks his head to the side and reaches for my hand. “You remember my friends’ names after me mentioning them once?”
Now it’s my turn to rib him. “Yeah, learning people’s names is really not hard, you know, Sir.”
He brings my hand to his lips, and he places a small kiss on it. “You’re something else, Kitten. You know this, right?”
“Says the man who bought out all of first class and made me sit in coach.”
“Yeah, well, you’re here now, so stay with me. Get buckled in, Kitten. Remember you’re under my protection, so I can’t let anything happen to you on my watch.” Hot and cold! This man is going to give me both a sunburn and frostbite with all his mood swings.
Chapter Fourteen
Chadwick
In the airport, Shiloh, Cord’s sub, finds us. I’m leaving Eve in Shiloh’s confident hands, and giving up her tender touch, whose little hand has been attached to my own, is hard for me. This woman affects me in a way no other woman has.
“How’s Cord?” I ask Shiloh, who looks like she’s been put through the wringer today. Her neatly maintained platinum hair whips out of her ponytail, and she has no makeup on.
“You know Cord. He should be ready for this because that fucker of a district attorney is after you guys. We were even prepared with all the legal documentation Greer had for us after the last raid.”
She walks with Eve and me to my driver, and I get in, watching Shiloh and Eve leave for my house. I want her as far away from this shit as she can get. The fucker of the DA wants to expose the stars and athletes who frequent my club. After the last raid, I lost a couple of famous members—not that I blame them.
But the DA has been harassing Shiloh after he learn
ed she lives in an apartment under Cord’s name. He tried to charge her with prostitution due to this little fact. Funny, how quick Cord sold his apartment to Shiloh for one dollar.
The second I’m in the club, I enter through the dungeon entrance. Cord and our lawyer, Greer, are sitting on one of many couches, sharing a bottle of scotch. “I think I need to get in on this after the fucked-up phone call. Where’s the shithead DA who has it out for us?”
Greer stands to greet me. “Fuck, after the last raid, I had everything settled. I was able to show the legitimate business licenses, our rules, and the statute that allows this type of club to operate. More so, I was able to present the court order allowing us to keep our client roster sealed. That fucker tucked his fucking tail between his legs and left. And he’s hopefully getting his ass chewed out. If he wasn’t a sadistic hatemonger, I’d plow my own dick into his ass.” Oh, and not to mention our lawyer—both ruthless and loudmouthed—is also a whore who loves a man in power.
“Ah, maybe you should claim him. He could ride your ass and not ours.” I chuckle as I follow my thought and his fantasy with a shot of scotch. “So, I hopped the first flight and flew fucking commercial for no reason?”
Cord, who has remained quiet during Greer’s and my banter, leans forward. “I don’t think so. Do I get to meet this chick who has you on a leash?”
As I clink my own drink down hard, my response is quick and loud. “You know better than that. No one cages me.” But fuck, her not wanting this life and me attached to it makes me want her even more.
“Shit, you’re in denial. Jared has given me the 411 on this shit going down with you. He says you’re not your normal asshole self, but then Shiloh texts me, telling me you bought out all of first class.” Greer, amused at this turn of events, has his pearly whites on display. Greer may know me better than any of them and probably can see in my denial that I’m whipped.
At this conversation, he waits for a response, and when he doesn’t get it they have my answer with a bob of my head.
“Ah, fuck, Chad, that’s wicked, even for you,” Greer retorts.
Taking one last shot of bourbon, I wink at Greer. “Well, this will give you something to jerk off to until you get that DA to suck you off.” He flips me off, and I return the gesture. “I’m off to see if I can make my kitten purr.”
Cord stands, and I’m still in earshot. “Fuck, Chad, I didn’t want to believe this, but she’s not even given you the goods yet, and you’re pussy whipped.” Saluting him with my middle finger, he’s right. I can’t go to her this soon. It’ll send her the wrong message.
Chapter Fifteen
Eve
The virtual stranger I know as Shiloh has not stopped talking since her BMW burned rubber leaving the airport. “Chadwick never, and I mean never, brings a companion with him. I’ve known him for some time, and it’s always just him.”
She keeps rambling on and on about this, and I wonder if this girl ever stops to take a breath. I need her to—her incessant jabbering is unnerving me. “It’s because he can’t have me,” I reply.
She whips her head around so fast that I fear for my safety when her eyes leave the road. Her driving is questionable as she weaves in and out of the lanes of traffic. “Or is it that you can’t admit what is true, that you can’t have him either?”
It’s as though she’s seen straight into my soul and is reading me plain as day. “Look, Eve.” She speeds up, taking the next exit at the last minute. “I understand this lifestyle can seem a little crazy to the nonbeliever, but there’s so much commitment with the right match. I’ve seen his protectiveness with you. It may have only been a minute, but with a man like Chadwick Westbrook, it’s a telltale sign he’s fallen, and it’s not something he normally allows himself to do.”
We’re now on the busy streets of LA. Again, I’m fearful for my life when she comes to an abrupt halt and one tire makes its way on the curb. My neck bends back as far as it can at the luxurious apartment building in front of me. “Look, Eve, don’t let something as great as a relationship with Chadwick out of your grasp.”
Shiloh lets me off in front of the building Chadwick resides in while in Los Angeles. “Just tell them you are with Mr. Westbrook, and they will get you settled.” The doorman is at the trunk of Shiloh’s BMW M850 before I can work my way out of her sports car.
“Ms. Lipton,” he calls for me. “You can head upstairs; we’ll have all your stuff brought to you.” I don’t have a chance to offer my thanks to Shiloh before I’m on the 26th floor standing in front of large windows with a view of the LA skyline. Is it a prerequisite for all rich people to have floor-to-ceiling windows?
The doorman who helps me into the apartment, or may I say the most luxurious home I’ve ever seen, hands me an envelope with the simple penmanship of Chadwick on it. I have no idea how he did this, but it’s his handwriting. Ripping it open, I pull out the paper, which smells like him. I smile at the first word, a term of endearment I love whether falling from his lips or handwritten on both the envelope and the notebook paper I hold in my hands.
Kitten,
There’s no telling how long I’ll be at the club. Take a long bath; all the bubbles your little heart desires are in your bathroom. Your room is the other master bedroom to the left of the hallway. However, if you could just give in to what we both know you want, you can move into my room. Call me if you need me. And do not leave the apartment.
CW
I never understood why he signs his initials and not Chadwick. It’s one of the many things about this man I’ll never understand.
The bathtub is bigger than most saunas or even swimming pools, for that matter. I lie back in the lounging chair submerged in the tub with bubbles covering me as if I were a four-year-old splashing around for fun. In my mind, I reflect to Chadwick and the way his body commands my body to respond to his own. Since the day I’ve taken the job or accepted the terms of his bet, his presence in my life has fucked with my own standards of morality.
My mind drifts to the note, and his demand to stay in the apartment makes me scoff. He’ll not command me. After the water turns to ice chilling cold, I pull my shriveled little self from the tub. It’s been three hours, and I still haven’t heard from Chadwick.
Perusing his kitchen, I see he has jack shit to eat. After searching my phone, there’s a small grocery store down the street. Concocting a plan and a grocery list, I walk downstairs, asking the doorman for directions. I don’t need to know the streets of Los Angeles well to understand this is a ritzy area. Enjoying my little walk, I grab chicken, noodles, sour cream, bacon, flour, wine, and green beans. Carrying my purchases, I make my way back to his penthouse, getting a nice dinner started for Chadwick and me.
Normally, the music of Norah Jones playing in the background would calm me. But I can’t turn off my growing feelings for Chadwick. The anger brewing inside me reaches a boiling point, like the water for the noodles I’ve started. I never wanted this. The bet had never been about falling in love with the jackass—like I’m doing minute by minute.
I attempt to divert my attention to the sauce as my playlist changes to Ed Sheeran. Why are all my songs such deep love ballads tonight? I wonder, stirring in the bacon as my mind continues to swirl of all things Chadwick.
Once the sauce is almost ready, I drop in the egg noodles and ladle the creaminess of our dinner on the heaping pasta.
I’m blowing Chadwick’s phone up. He’s not answering my calls or returning my texts. I know he told me he wasn’t sure when he’d be back. Though, I still want to do something nice for him. Chadwick is never far from his phone. And just as I’m having a hard time admitting I’m getting close to him, he’s in denial, too.
Looking around his kitchen, I’m shocked this is bigger than the little apartment I lived in when I first moved to Chicago. With two double ovens and three dishwashers and a fridge bigger than most walk-in closets, I’m flabbergasted. And through it all, my dinner for Chadwick, the one thing I can
do for him, is getting cold.
My wine, something I bought with my own money, is nothing compared to what Chadwick can afford, but this is me repaying him in the only way I know how. I eat my chicken stroganoff in silence, moving my green beans around like they are boring me.
A little tear falls from my face. When you pour your heart into something, it hurts to have it ignored. And the fifty dollars I spent on this dinner is probably the equivalent of him spending a couple of thousand dollars.
And to think, I was attempting to see things with him. And now, with this blatant snub, I sit with my white wine, drinking my feelings away.
Chapter Sixteen
Chadwick
One of my favorite subs is at the club tonight. Normally, I’m with her, and only her, the second I get to Los Angeles. Sora is incredible, but just as I had Ariel in front of me a couple of weeks ago, I don’t have the stomach for her tonight.
And when I admit what the reason is, I begin to receive an onslaught of texts from her.
My Kitten: Hey, I’m working on dinner. You going to be back soon, Sir?
Shit, she’s making me dinner. What the hell? My life isn’t ordered like this. Women submit to me. I do whatever the fuck I care to do with them. This is my life, and not a woman who makes me dinner like we’re a happy fucking family.
My Kitten: Um, you’re never without your phone. What’s up? I mean, if you can’t make it, I will put dinner up for you.
