Not About That Life

by Vera Roberts

  There’s a bite of anger within Sir’s tone and I have a feeling it’s a touchy subject within the BDSM community. He lies next to me and caresses my face with the moist towel before He kisses around my lips but not quite touching them.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I’m feeling all sorts of emotion. I want to experience more. I want tasks. I want discipline. Maybe this would help me become more serious about my career. Maybe this would help me with the property purchases.

  Maybe I can start becoming more aggressive. “I feel wonderful, Sir.”

  “Why?”

  I wasn’t expecting the why of it. I have to think carefully about my answer. What was it about tonight specifically that made me feel that way?

  “It was different. I had no control over my hands, and really, not that much in my legs. The only control I had was…”

  There’s that light bulb I’ve been looking for.

  “You were saying, pet?” He encourages me.

  “The only control I had was my mouth. I had to vocalize what I wanted, how much I wanted it, and when – if I did – want you to stop.” There’s the emboldened Domi. How you doing, girl?

  Ian slowly blinks at me and smiles. “That’s great to hear.” He pauses. “We’ll go over more about this in the morning. I need you to rest up. Next week, we’re going to New York.”

  “Oh?” I know it’s already Christmas season but I don’t think we’re going to see the big-ass Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center being lit up. “What’s in New York?”

  “My friends, Nick and Zerrin,” He caresses my face. “They’ll teach you more about the Lifestyle and if it’s something you really want.”

  Nicholas D’Amato, the sexy professor at NYU and his wife, Zerrin, looking like a goddess with finger-width braids and always seem to smell like vanilla. “What about You, Sir?” I ask. “Is this something You want?”

  “I only want it if you do,” He replies, “but if you don’t, I’ll be just fine.”

  I don’t want to be in a position where if I don’t give Ian what He wants, He’ll go somewhere else. “What if I don’t want to do BDSM all of the time? Maybe just sometimes?”

  “That’s fine, too, angel.” He rubs my back and all is okay in the world. “This isn’t about fulfilling just My needs and wishes, but yours as well.”

  I have the taste of power and control, for the first time, in our relationship. I like this. I like this a lot. “Are You going to spank me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pull my hair?”

  Ian raised an eyebrow and eyeballs my hair. “You really want me to do that?”

  On second thought, hell no. Ian had witnessed in great detail and frustration, everything that takes for me get these coils on and poppin’ every day. That man knows more about co-washing, hair butters, and silk pillowcases than he’d previously wanted (or cared) to know.

  It takes me forever to get this 4a hair done in the morning so fuck that shit. “No.”

  “Whatever you want, angel, I’m willing to help you with.” Ian reassures me. “I only request that at one point during our experiment, I’m going to experience your last available hole.”

  Anal.

  Ian’s dick can barely fit into the warm and snug heaven between my thighs and he wants to fuck my ass with that?

  WITH THAT?

  I just…whew, chile…Ian’s dick is porn star legendary and while I know he’ll be as gentle as possible with me, it doesn’t change the fact he’s sticking a big dick in a space normally reserved for exit.

  I might need to call Helen and ask if her if she can let me have some of that Khalifia Kush.

  Eight

  “Dahling, dahling!” Michael seemingly does a pirouette as he greets me and Adrienne at his jewelry shop, Milana, on Rodeo. Billed – according to Michael – as the more high-end version of Tiffany’s (there’s a high-end version of that?), the store offers a wide range of jewelry that costs so much, it makes the devil himself shook.

  We’re here to get my giant engagement ring appraised and insured, and look at something…ahem, cheaper so I won’t get mugged in West L.A. at night.

  “You’re here to get that hunk of jewelry appraised and insured?” He asks and I nod. “I’m surprised Ian didn’t. I would think he would’ve.”

  “He probably did but I want to have a second opinion.” I state. “I also want to make sure it’s worth what the insurance company says it is.”

  “Well, good for you!” Michael nods. “I’m glad to see you take some control. Adrienne also told me you were interested in cheaper pieces?”

  “Yes, because I don’t want to be wearing this and get mugged,” I reply.

  “Fair enough,” he gestures to the other rings and we follow his lead, “what was your price range?”

  “One hundred,” I answer and Adrienne almost chokes on her spit.

  “Girl, you better put some extra zeroes on that shit,” she chides.

  I’m not used to this lifestyle and I don’t think I ever will be. “Fine. Ten thousand.”

  “That’s a good start,” Adrienne says to Michael, who agrees.

  I take off my ring and hand it over to the appraiser who quickly takes it and starts her work. “Did you want the same style?” Michael asks.

  “Sure, I think that works.” Just as I was admiring some jewelry, from my peripheral, I see two Suge Knight-looking bodyguards enter the store followed by a smaller, but muscular man.

  Be still my heart.

  He’s dressed in all white like he’s about to go a party hosted by Puffy, P. Diddy or whatever the hell he’s calling himself these days. His beard looks moisturized with the best shea butter on God’s green earth.

  His complexion…it was his complexion that made my heart lurch. He was the color of dark chocolate and suddenly I’m hungry to take a bite.

  “Kwesi!” Michael shrieks and rushes over to him and gives him a big hug and two air kisses like he does for everyone. “I’m so glad to see you today! I have your piece ready!”

  “All right, cool.” Kwesi nods. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  “Make yourself comfortable!” Michael gesticulates, “and I’ll be right back!” He then traipses to the back.

  I go back to looking at the other pieces of jewelry and hope it’ll distract me from the big glass of water that I’m suddenly thirsting for. I feel a weird battle in my body – my brain folds her arms and sucks her teeth; kinda like when you messed up and your mama caught you in a lie?

  My heart is leaning forward and batting her eyelashes, and getting ready to blow kisses. While my loins are looking through the Sex Me Up playlist and wondering which Trey Songz record she should put on because she’s getting ready to blow him.

  “Lord have mercy,” Adrienne finally looks up and sees what I see, “so that’s what Michelangelo looks like when he’s dipped in dark chocolate.”

  “Shh…” I try to quiet her and not make a scene. I’m trying very hard not to stare and I hope if I concentrate at this gaudy-ass piece of clear rock in front of me, I won’t pay any more attention to him.

  “You know what? I think I see some other pieces I want to look at,” Adrienne mentions, “I’ll be over there if you need me.”

  I watch Adrienne walk away and wonder what all that was about. “Oh okay, sis.” Weird. I turn back to the jewelry when I’m stricken by Kwesi’s appearance.

  Right. Next. To. Me.

  “See anything you like?” His voice is deep like the ocean and smooth like molasses. Now I’m hungry for sugar.

  Hell, yeah, I see something I like. I want to see how your dark chocolate looks next to my milk chocolate. “Um…” I swallow and blow out a small breath. “…just browsing. I’m waiting for my ring to be appraised.”

  “Your ring?” He looks down at the noticeable tan line around my ring finger and I follow his lead. “Lucky man.”

  I’m having a difficult time remembering how to breathe. The only other man who’s had this e
ffect on me is Ian. What’s going on here? “Uh-huh.”

  Kwesi pulls back and slightly tilts his head. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “I don’t think so,” I shake my head.

  “You look awfully familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere.” His eyes light up and he snaps his fingers. “You’re Pole Bae!”

  I really hate that damn nickname. “Um, yes I am.”

  “I’ve watched your videos and man, you have some amazing moves, woman.” A tongue quickly darts out to lick his lips and why am I jealous of his lips and tongue? “I’ve followed your rise and I’m impressed. How’s your studio?”

  “It’s great! It’s open to everyone.” Don’t invite him to a class, Domi. Don’t invite him to a class, Domi. “You should come to a class.” Bitch, what is you thinking?

  “I don’t know if pole dancing is my thing,” he flashes that beautiful smile with perfect teeth.

  Don’t tell him you have other classes. Don’t tell him it’s for everyone, regardless of gender. “We have other classes you could take, regardless of your gender.” My brain and my heart are squaring up inside in their respective corners, while my loins is picking out the perfect Jagged Edge song.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he grins.

  “Here’s your ring, Dominique!” The jeweler returns with my ring, all nice and shiny, and I’m inexplicably pissed she interrupted a moment. Weird.

  Kwesi eyeballs the massive rock and I’m suddenly feeling guilty I’m putting it back on. “What’s that like?”

  “What’s what like?”

  “Being with a Ferguson,” he clarifies, “I’m sure there’s more to it than Bentleys and Blahniks.”

  I smile. We still haven’t officially announced our engagement but I guess word travels fast in the land of the one-percenters. “It’s not bad. He’s not keeping me locked in somewhere like he’s R. Kelly.”

  “Ah, man,” he chuckles, “that’s a good one.”

  Kwesi’s smile is infectious. “No, there’s no crazy conspiracy theories or anything like that. They’re quite normal, just really loaded.”

  “Very,” he glances at me.

  The look he gives me creates a warm sensation within me. “Why are you here today?” I ask before it occurs to me it’s really none of my business. “I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

  “No, you’re not intruding at all.” He softly licks his lips. “In fact, you’re the new highlight of my day.”

  Warmth rushes to my cheeks and I don’t know why. My heart stutters in my chest and body comes to a full cant. “Oh?”

  “It’s not every day I’m graced by one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.” Kwesi explains as if I’m the only girl in the world. And what the hell is that? Is that my heart belting out Rihanna?

  “Here you go, sir!” Michael returns with a large velvet case. He opens it up in front of Kwesi and my eyes widen. In front of him is the most beautiful diamond and sapphire necklace. I’m easily looking at tens of thousands of dollars, at least.

  “Perfect,” Kwesi smiles. “Let me see something real quick.” He takes the necklace and holds it in front of me. “Can I ask you a favor? Can you try this on for me? I want to see how it would look on my mother. You two have the same complexion.”

  I swallowed. Twice. “Sure.” I lift up my hair and I feel Kwesi stand behind me as he wraps the necklace around my neck. I get a whiff of his scent and my knees buckle at the masculinity of it.

  “Here you go!” Michael comes in front of us with a mirror. “Domi, that looks so good on you!”

  It actually does. The diamonds and sapphires stun against my skin tone. “Thank you.”

  “I think it’s perfect,” Kwesi replies, “definitely the most beautiful sight I’ve seen in a minute.”

  I’m too busy looking at the necklace to realize what he said. When I glance at his reflection, it’s not the necklace he’s looking at.

  It’s me.

  Nine

  Ciara’s voice is welcoming and exotic at the same time.

  As I lay face-first on the ground, I fold myself over to the pole, doing a handstand against it. My body is parallel to the pole as my legs stretch out. I bend my legs around the pole and push myself up with my arms, as my legs slowly kick in the air.

  I grab the pole with one arm and lift myself into the fetal position as “Promise” plays overhead. I spin around the pole, feeling the wispy voice of Ciara against the thumping drum line. I land on my feet and arch my back away from the pole as my eyes are closed and I feel the rhythm and heat of the song.

  I wrap my right leg around the pole and use it as an anchor to spin myself around back into another fetal position before I straighten my legs out. I slam my feet onto the ground and lift myself, slowly pop lockin’ to the song’s bass line.

  This time, I’m well aware I have an audience, though the lyrics of the song are reading like a dedication to my fiancée. It speaks of our relationship rather perfectly and I wonder if Ian feels the same as he listens to the song.

  You can be my teacher, I’ll do homework. And Ian has been my teacher. He’s been my lover, my protector, and my caretaker. He’s honestly rather perfect.

  And I have more homework in store for me. Bae recently gifted me a book on how-to BDSM. The acronyms – bondage, Domination/submission, and masochism – is above and beyond what I’ve read in the books and seen in the movies.

  In fact, it’s nothing like it at all.

  It is more mental than physical. It’s like I have to put my mind through strenuous training and to be honest, I’m not sure if I can handle it. I honestly thought it was just about being tied up, but there’s so much more. Tasks. Assignments. Punishments. Discipline. The whole enchilada.

  We’re heading to New York to meet with Nick and Zerrin and I’m both excited and terrified about what will occur in New York. Will I absolutely hate BDSM once I talk to Nick? Will I love it? Only one way to find out.

  I climb back onto the pole, reaching the very top before I twist my body so I’m hanging upside down. In what has become my now-signature move, I open my legs into a split along the pole as I spin around. I grab the back of one heel and hold it as leverage while my other leg is the steady anchor for my body.

  I grab my legs with both hands as they’re stretched out as I slowly spin around the pole. This movement demonstrates how flexible I am, but also is great on my core, as my stomach is the only thing holding me against the pole. I grab onto the pole with my arms and slowly swing my legs around before I invert my body again, hanging upside down while doing an open split.

  I ease my body down the pole until my head is almost touching the ground. This is a dangerous move and I’m not proud I’ve bumped my head more times I wanted to admit but it’s one that requires super concentration and a steady grip.

  I close my legs and flip myself over to the fetal position. I use this position as a temporary breather before I go into my next dance.

  I slither across the floor, rocking my hips with each movement until I stand up. I drag one leg behind the other until reach the pole again, becoming one with it. I wrap my legs around the pole and re-enter the same fetal position I started with.

  I come down from the pole and stand. I’m breathing hard and sweat covers my body. “So,” I manage to catch a single breath, “what do you think?”

  “I think you just made me gay!” Emma stands up and claps as others follow. “Domi, that’s so incredible! Is that what you’re going to enter for the competition?”

  It was Emma’s idea to have me start entering pole dancing competitions as a way to promote the studio but to also silence the detractors and letting them know I’m not some lucky girl who just happens to be with a Ferguson. I had legit talent before Ian and I intend to prove it. “I think so,” I turn to bae, “what do you think, baby?”

  “I think it’s excellent,” he brightly smiles at me, “if you don’t win first place, I’m going to have a talk with the judges.” />
  “Well, don’t do that,” I chuckle, though I think Ian was dead serious. “If I don’t win, I’ll try harder next year.”

  “And that’s what I really want to hear.” He winks at me and I feel all sorts of emotions running through me. He glances down at his Philip Patek watch and sighs. “Unfortunately, I need to leave. I have a meeting with staff I’m already running late for so I can’t stay.” He pulls me in for a hug and sweeps his lips across mine, capturing me into a soul-stirring kiss and my knees become weak. I don’t think they’ll ever stop doing that. “I’ll be home later tonight.” He leans in. “I have some reading material for you later.” He pulls back and winks at me again. “Love you, angel.”

  “Love you more.” I lightly press a hand against my lips as I still feel the lingering effects of his kiss. My mind immediately goes to the reading material he has in store for me. BDSM? But I can’t think about that now. I have a class to teach in a few minutes and the last thing my students need is a teacher who can’t control her emotions.

  Ian almost bumps into Lowell on the way out and she moves out of the way for him. Her eyes follow him as he makes his way out to the parking lot and the bitch makes sure to say bye to him. Yes, I already know a woman who has eyes for my man.

  Lowell turns to me and I think she legit forgot I was her boss for a moment. “Oh, hey Dominique.”

  “Hello, Lowell,” I simply blink at her.

  Whatever I saw, so did Emma. “Watch out for that one,” she quietly warns.

  “Oh, I’m on her like a newborn on a titty.” I politely wave to Lowell and she waves back. Le sigh. I hate it when bitches are so obvious they want my man. Bitch, get your own!

  “Anyway,” Emma turns to me, “over dinner, let’s the discuss the hair and body care line. I have some great ideas I want to explore with you.”

  Since the release of Dolce’s “Muse” video, people have wondered how I kept my melanin so soft and supple. I use my own concoction of almond, jojoba, and avocado oil, sweetened with jasmine and vanilla. It was Emma’s idea for me to start selling it and I think she’s onto something.