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Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

Page 187

by Aleatha Romig


  I want you here. Now.

  He’d sounded pissed. Rae hugged herself as his words played back in her mind. He’d never summarily ordered her to drop everything and get her ass to the office like that before. Was he on to her? Was she going to get busted this close to the end? She shook away the thought.

  Rae pushed through the crowded subway station and up the stairs to the street, where the heat hit her with a humid blast. She hurried down the block toward Sam’s office building and through the revolving doors.

  Sam was too clueless when it came to finances. When he’d hired her he hadn’t even set up the company properly and was paying way too much in fees and taxes. He was one of those typical geeks who was brilliant at programming but could barely remember to pay his own bills. She’d spent months getting that side of his business straightened out and procuring the line of credit he needed for it to really take off.

  He needed her. Without her, he would never have gotten the Ichi deal. Reminding herself of this, she smiled bravely at her image in the mirrored elevator door and squared her shoulders as it opened. With a determined stride, she moved down the hallway, the very picture of feminine competence.

  With a perfunctory knock, she pushed open the door of Ryker Solutions. “I made it,” she announced, dropping her briefcase on one of the chairs in front of Sam’s desk and settling herself into the other. “Now, what’s so urgent it couldn’t be handled on the phone?”

  Sam, who had been typing something on his keyboard, looked up slowly. In spite of her nervous anticipation, she felt her body react as he swept her with a fiery gaze. There was a kind of power in his face that she responded to on a gut level, even though intellectually she rejected it. It was that power, that easy arrogance, that had made her tumble into bed with him in the first place. It was that same power that had scared her and made her reject him out of hand.

  Fortunately she was wearing one of her Xena Warrior bras, the kind with enough padding to hide her perking nipples. Ignoring the sudden warmth between her legs, she smoothed her face into a bland, inquiring smile and waited.

  “What’s the interest rate on my line of credit?” Sam’s blue-grey eyes looked steely as he pinned her with his look.

  Rae’s stomach gave an unpleasant lurch and she felt the pulse in her neck quicken. She kept her bland smile and pretended to think for a second. “Eighteen, but I’ve been working on getting you a lower rate. Now that the company’s got more of a track record—”

  “Try again.”

  “I’m sorry?” Rae’s heart was beating too fast. She felt almost faint.

  “Not as sorry as you’re going to be, little girl.”

  “Now, just a minute, nobody talks—”

  “Save it, Rae. I’m onto you. Jerry Mitchell clued me in.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lied. Her mind was skittering like a rat tossed on the deck of a sinking ship. Desperately she tried to think, to come up with an excuse, but all she managed was, “Who’s Jerry Mitchell?”

  “He’s a senior VP over at the bank. I happened to run into him at the golf course yesterday. He asked about the business, just shooting the breeze. He was surprised to hear I was paying such a high rate. Said he’d look into it for me come Monday. Called me this morning and said I was mistaken. Said the rate’s eight percent, not eighteen.”

  Sam turned the monitor so Rae could see her own numbers, the false numbers she kept in case Sam had ever bothered to check. He pushed what looked like a bank statement across the desk toward her.

  She opened her mouth to deny it, to protest, to make up a story, but no words came. She tried to swallow but her throat felt as if it were filled with rocks. He was watching her with a cold expression.

  “There must be a mistake…” she finally managed to whisper.

  He ignored this. “You owe me over a hundred thousand dollars. I’ll expect it by five o’clock this afternoon.”

  Rae gripped her chair. This was insane. “I can’t—I didn’t…”

  He stood, towering over her. “Don’t bother with your lies. It’s here in black and white. You’re busted. Get me the money or I call the cops.”

  “Sam, please,” Rae said desperately. “Listen, I can explain.”

  Sam glared at her a moment longer but then, thank god, he sat down. “Okay. I’m listening. Make it good.”

  Rae closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. Did she tell him the truth? Would it make any difference? Aware she sounded defensive, she said, “You’d promised to give me a share in the company, in the profits. It’s been months since you promised. I’ve done really good work for you, Sam. I’ve busted my ass to get this company good credit and new customers—”

  “By robbing me blind? You have rather peculiar ideas of how to manage a company’s finances.” His voice was low, even menacing. She almost wished he’d yell instead, anything to this cold, hard way he was speaking. It chilled her to the bone.

  “Talk to me, Rae. Tell me the truth.”

  The or else was implicit in his words. Frightened, Rae admitted, “I—I got into some financial trouble. With a real estate deal I became involved with. It went sour and my business partner left me holding the bag. I’ve been trying like hell to get out of debt and move on. I was just—just borrowing the funds for a while, till I could get back on my feet.”

  Sam steepled his fingers beneath his chin and leaned toward her, his eyes sparking. “So let me get this straight. You made a bad business deal and then decided to steal from me to get out of it? It never occurred to you to maybe come to me and ask for help? Or take out a legitimate loan somewhere? What the fuck, Rae? I trusted you.”

  The hardness in his tone was edged with hurt. Could it be he still cared for her on some level? Could she exploit that now to her advantage? Feeling like a shit for doing it, but also feeling pretty desperate in the circumstances, Rae allowed the very real tears pressing at her eyelids to escape and slip down her cheeks. She let the tremble she’d been holding at bay enter her voice and pouted, opening her eyes wide to make herself look as vulnerable as possible.

  “Please, Sam,” she said softly. “I’m so, so sorry. It was stupid. I was scared and in a jam and afraid to let you know how bad I’d fucked up. I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” She put her hand on her throat and let it trail down her chest, drawing his eye to her breasts, now wishing she’d worn something sexy, instead of her no-nonsense blouse and suit jacket.

  “Please,” she whispered throatily. “I don’t have the cash to repay you. Let me make this right some other way.” She crossed her legs, causing her skirt to ride up higher on her thighs as she cast him a beseeching look.

  A smile edged its way over Sam’s lips and he narrowed his eyes. “Anything, huh,” he drawled slowly. “Anything to avoid the certain jail time for embezzlement? Anything I want?”

  “Anything,” she affirmed, not liking his tone but not daring to show it.

  He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, his smile almost friendly. “What makes you think you have something I want? Something worth that kind of money? Hmm?” His gaze was positively insolent as he undressed her with his eyes. Rae felt her face heat and she looked down. She had asked for this and she knew it.

  “I asked you a question,” the bastard persisted. “What have you got that I might want?”

  She forced herself to look at him again, anger giving her courage. “You tell me,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

  He stared at her a while, saying nothing. She tried not to fidget or scream. Finally he spoke, his voice low and calm, a small, almost cruel smile curving his lips. “Thirty days. You will give me thirty days.”

  Rae was confused. “What? Thirty days of what?”

  “You’ll spend thirty days in my dungeon, meditating on your crime and showing me just how very sorry you are. You’ll be my sex slave. My toy to do with as I will. You’ll serve your time, if you want to look at it that way, naked and cha
ined.”

  Rae stared at him in utter disbelief, trying to process his insane and outrageous proposal. She forced herself to think, to try to make sense of what he was saying. He couldn’t really be serious.

  He was watching her, waiting for a response.

  “You’re joking,” she finally managed. “Look, I can come up with the cash. Just give me some time—”

  “Oh, you will, don’t worry. One way or the other, you’ll pay back every cent. But this deal is in addition to restitution. It’s so you can avoid jail time and financial ruin. It’s your punishment for being a very, very bad girl.” His cold smile sent a shiver up Rae’s spine.

  The words burst from her lips before she could stop them. “What the fuck, Sam? A dungeon? Punishment? You can’t be serious. This isn’t the Dark Ages. This is New York, not Tehran. You can’t just tie a woman up and give her thirty lashes, for god’s sake!”

  “Sure I can. And I’ll have fun doing it. You will be punished as I see fit. At the end of your penance period, we can decide where we go from there.”

  “How do I know there’s an end to this, uh,” she paused, but forced herself to say the word, “punishment? How can I trust you to keep your word? What’s to stop you from blackmailing me for the rest of your life?”

  Sam shook his head, his smile ironic. “Trust,” he said in a musing tone. “Are you actually talking to me about trust? I’d say you don’t have a whole hell of a lot of choice here. Take it or leave it.”

  He gazed at her, an implacable expression on his face. How had she ever been so stupid to think she could get away with her scam? Why hadn’t she gone to him or somehow come up with the money she needed without resorting to theft? Why did she always take the easy way out when things got tough? Rae began to cry, dropping her head into her hands.

  “Spare me the tears. You take what’s due, Rae, you do the thirty days. Then we’ll work out a repayment schedule. If you stick to the terms, then I won’t call in the authorities. To give you some assurance, we’ll write up an agreement that suits us both regarding the money you owe and my statement that it was money lent, not stolen.”

  She continued to cry, but she was listening, still trying to decide if he was really serious and if it was something she could do. Thirty days as someone’s sex slave! The idea was preposterous, absurd, insane! And yet…and yet she couldn’t deny the tiniest spark of excitement at the idea.

  The thought of being kept naked and in chains in Sam Ryker’s dungeon. His dungeon! What the hell did that even mean? Was it some dank, dark place with manacles on the walls like in a medieval castle? Or was it like those BDSM clubs she’d seen pictures of on the internet, with black walls and people dressed in leather with masks covering their faces and cat o’ nine tails in their hands?

  “Rae, look at me,” Sam commanded.

  Rae lifted her head slowly, focusing on Sam’s face. “I need an answer. Do you agree to my terms or do I call the police? It’s up to you.” She stared at him, her mouth working, no sound issuing. Again she felt that raw power emanating from him, more than his usual casual arrogance and confidence. This felt different and, in spite of herself, Rae felt a tug of attraction.

  Thirty days under lock and key, could she handle that? Could she trust him to stick to the terms? Did she have a choice? He held all the cards—there was nothing to negotiate.

  Nevertheless, she clung to what he’d said earlier. “If I agree,” she said slowly, “we’ll sign that indemnifying agreement first, right? Before I go to your, uh, dungeon.” The last word came out as a whisper.

  Sam actually laughed. “You sound like an attorney. You’ll get your agreement, don’t worry—but when I say so, not you. We’ll draw it up now and sign when the month is up.”

  He really was serious. It was finally sinking in. He meant it. He was going to hold her hostage for a month! “When—” Her voice came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “When would this, uh, penance, start?”

  “Now. You’ll be going home with me.”

  “Now?” Rae squeaked. “I can’t just up and leave things. I have food in my refrigerator that would rot. And I have other responsibilities. I’m still working on the Ichi deal. Don’t you want that wrapped up?”

  “We’ll go together to your place and do what needs to be done to secure things until your return. The Ichi deal is pretty much in the bag at this point and anyway, it’s not like you won’t be around to consult if I need anything. I might let you out of the dungeon from time to time, if you’re a very good girl.”

  “Sam, you can’t…” Rae trailed off. Her heart was thumping loud in her ears and she felt dizzy and sick to her stomach.

  “Oh, no? Watch me.”

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  “Take off your shoes.”

  They stood in the front hall of his home. Rae looked up at him with those big doe eyes and bit her lip, but she stepped out of her heels like a good girl.

  “Unbutton your blouse.”

  He watched her swallow hard. She started to speak but he stopped her with a finger to her lips. “No. Remember, not a word.”

  He’d outlined the rules as he’d driven her from her place to his home in Brooklyn Heights, making them up as he went along. “While you’re my sex slave, you won’t speak unless spoken to. You will always answer any questions directly and honestly.” He snorted, adding, “At least as honestly as you’re capable of.”

  She opened her mouth as if to retort but, wisely, held her tongue. He continued. “You will obey whatever I ask of you to the letter, doing no more and no less than I demand. If you feel you have to say something to me, you will ask first for permission to speak and wait for it to be granted.”

  She had laughed nervously. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He glanced from the road to her face. “No. Dead serious.” He warmed to his topic. “You’ll be kept naked at all times, except when I dress you up for my amusement. You’ll submit to my punishments without protest.”

  “Sam, this is nuts. I’m not into all this perverted S&M shit—”

  “Nobody asked you what you’re into, babe. This isn’t designed for your pleasure. Don’t forget, you bilked me out of a whole lot of money. You committed a crime—a felony that could land your ass in jail for a very long time. I’m willing to settle for thirty days, but those days will be on my terms. Not yours. My word, once we cross the threshold of my house, will become your law. You will exist solely to serve and please me. You will give up all free will. You will be my possession to use as I see fit.”

  He turned again to look at her. She was staring at him with her mouth open, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. “If you fuck up, Rae—if you don’t behave—I’ll cancel the deal and call the cops then and there. I want complete obedience and submission for the full thirty days. Are we one-hundred-percent crystal clear on this?”

  Her miserable little nod had made him feel almost guilty—until he remembered the one-hundred-thirty-three thousand dollars she’d stolen.

  Now as he saw her hesitation in opening her blouse, he said, “Don’t make me repeat myself. I tell you to do something—you do it. Got it?”

  He watched as she lifted her hands to the pearl buttons of her blouse. Her fingers were shaking as she opened them and she hesitated after the first three, casting him a pleading look. “Hurry up,” he said. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” She flushed but kept at it, until she got all the buttons open. “Take off the blouse.” She obeyed and he took it from her. “Now the skirt and your pantyhose.” Sam could feel his cock swelling.

  Rae wrapped her arms protectively over her breasts. “Arms at your sides,” he said, watching the blush rising over her cheeks as she obeyed. “I haven’t even made you take off that bra—yet.”

  A sense of the surreal settled over Sam. He had her! It had been nearly a year since he’d tasted those perfect lips, since he’d had that warm, yielding body beneath his. Now he had Rae Johansen as his
personal sex slave for a month! Was he about to wake up from yet another dream? Or was this really happening?

  He stuffed her clothes into the overnight bag he’d allowed her to pack. “Don’t move. I’m going to get something and I’ll be right back.”

  “Sam,” she began, “this is crazy. Please, I—”

  “You just earned yourself your first punishment. You know the rules. Now shut that pretty little mouth of yours and do as you’re told.”

  Taking her purse and overnight bag with him, he left her standing there. He hadn’t locked the front door and he was aware she could just turn tail and run, though how far she’d get without her purse or clothing was anyone’s guess. Still, if she bailed he’d just blow the whistle and let the police deal with her like the common criminal she was.

  He headed down into the basement he’d converted into a rather handy dungeon, filled with his favorite toys. Rummaging in the cupboard that contained his bondage gear, he found what he was looking for and returned to find Rae standing where he’d left her.

  “This is your slave collar. It’s a sign of ownership and, for this month, I own you. You will only remove it when I give permission.” He showed Rae the black leather collar, a large metal ring hanging from the front of it. “Lift your hair so I can buckle it in place.”

  Rae’s eyes widened but she did as she was told, gathering and lifting her hair. Sam buckled the collar around her long, slender neck and attached the dog leash he’d brought with him to the ring at her throat.

  “What the hell—” she sputtered.

  “Punishment number two,” he interjected, which silenced her.

  He jerked gently at the leash. “Time to show you to your home for the next thirty days.” He led her down the basement stairs and watched her take in the room, her hand coming up to her mouth as she looked around at the equipment.

 

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